The Taste Of Loneliness - Story
by sroker
Summary: It's been 10 years since Hermione Granger's mother died and just after the war ended, and she's still trying to cope. Hermione's being forced to go to therapy to discuss her life, whilst trying to deal with a certain blonde haired boy who she hasn't seen in ages. One may just discover what secret she's been keeping inside her this whole time & who ends up saving her from herself...
1. Chapter 1

Hiya, so I'm planning on making this into a LONG length-ed story. I just thought I should put up the link to what Evelyns' office looks like (just the layout really.)

Ministry Office: www. floparksfoundation Lodge _ Grand _ Window _ View . jpg

== make sure there are no spaces in the link!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, please be nice, but comments would be appreciated. Let me know if you want me to include anything :)

Steph :)

XXX

* * *

She was beautiful. Jean Granger. Long, brown hair with a hint of auburn that, when the sun hit correctly, turned her hair slightly golden. The kindest smile that instinctively made you smile back, and the kind of elegance in the way she moved that could not be taught, but was natural for her. Graceful, was one way to describe her. So intelligent and dependent on the need for consuming information, for devouring it. It was her life. Then everything changed. Her personality, her looks. She became someone else entirely. She was no longer nurturing and kind, but troubled and tormented by her inner demons. Her long blonde hair became thin and dirty, whilst her smile that so clearly defined her as a person, melted away until all that became of her was a blank and emotionless face.

It was then that not_ only_ the grace and the beauty she once had left her. It was the thing she loved and prided herself in the most. Her intelligence. And awkwardness and fear took its place. Ironic, that the very thing she had lost; her intelligence, was to be her the meaning of her daughter's name in the future.

"Hermione?"

My eyes whipped up, stopping my train of thought and my attention refocused to the person in front of me. Evelyn. Today she wore a lace, white vest with a cream, pleated skirt down to her knees. Black, satin heels that were about the height of my thumb and a smart, gothic styled vintage blazer that cinched in at her already tiny waist. She was dressed appropriately for work. I was still uncertain on how I felt about her though. I neither liked, nor loathed her. I nothing-ed her. She was there for one purpose, to help me get better. Even though I knew there was nothing to fix, my father on the other hand thought differently and decided to send me here. To therapy.

My father. He's never been a real father to me, or else he wouldn't have left us when I was younger. Too obsessed with his own life, and his new family that he can't and won't give me the time of day. Always angry or upset at me for one thing or another, or just starting arguments with me for the sake of it. The last argument we had was about my magic. After the war it has been all over the place. Seeing all that death. Fred, Remus, Tonks... when that happened everything changed. It brought back memories of my mother's death and as a result, my magic went haywire. Talking to Harry and Ron helped a bit though, but not for long. As time went on, we got into more arguments and we both realized that without Harry there by our sides every second of he day to tame us both, we really had little in common and decided to part ways. I was homeless and was forced to move back in with my father, much to my distaste. Ron had begun a relationship with that slut Lavender, and Harry was still in his long term relationship with Ginny, so I was unable to stay at either of their houses. Even though after the war I had job offers every other day, being part of the Golden Trio, I turned them all down. Deciding that I needed some time to myself; to find myself again.

Living with my father was fine for the first week or two, and then all hell broke loose. Not being able to control my own magic at times is bad enough, but to have my _father_ contributing in a "not so positive manner" was the icing on the cake. Barking out profanities whenever he could and saying that it is my fault my magic has gone wild and that I'm doing it on purpose out of spite. Claiming that I am a lost cause and that I don't want to get better. He couldn't handle living with me so he gave me some money, enough for a while to live off, gave me the keys to the flat in London and told me to pack up and leave. Not before telling me that if I wanted to keep staying in the flat I would have to attend monthly sessions of therapy. Defeated and otherwise homeless, I begrudgingly accepted. So we rarely speak, and I think it's better that way.

"Hermione?!" Evelyn repeated once again, this time an octave louder to ensure that I was listening. She continued.

"How has everything been?"

I did not grace her with a reply, as I thought the question would answer itself. I just sat, looking with an emotionless face at the table in front of me, focussing on her desk plate bearing the name Evelyn Godwin, then looking everywhere else but her. The wooden room was a pale oak colour that was designed to feel warm and comforting. The room was big to say the least. After the war the Ministry had obviously done well for itself, putting the rest of Voldemort's followers back in Azkaban, _and_ as you do, decided to redecorate! Elaborately. A large pentagon shape and a slanted ceiling with a chandelier bang in the centre of the room, radiating light into all the cracks and crevices. Back against the door, ahead was an array of miraculous windows, tall and wide, that spread across the two walls allowing the sunlight to hit my skin, making me feel warm and tingly.

I heard her sigh and took this as an opportunity to sneak a glance up at her. She looked defeated. A couple months of therapy with me had not done her any good. My refusal to speak _and_ my attitude had taken a toll on her and I could see she was getting tired of it. She begun massaging her temples, a sign that she had begun to get a headache and was growing impatient with my refusal to cooperate. She was a woman in her late thirties. Tall, with a thin frame and hardly any bust. Eyes, the colour of the ocean in the Caribbean, full, plump lips the colour of strawberry candyfloss, and very dainty posture. So much so that one would think she might break if you weren't too careful, however she _was_ trained in self-defense and combat as all Ministry employees are required to after the war ended to avoid any more catastrophes. She was the type of woman who wouldn't catch your eye at all at a distance, but once you get up close and really see her, she really was quite breathtakingly beautiful. I envied her in that way. The big toothed, wild haired, goody two shoes. One third of the "Golden Trio". I sigh. Not anymore, I thought to myself. I could see the creases in her forehead and the beginning of wrinkles around her eyes. She was also biting her top lip, another sign I learnt that meant she was close to her breaking point. I had obviously gotten to her today.

After another minute or two, she took her head out of her hands and resumed her position almost exactly as before, looking intently at me.

"Look," she began, "I know you don't want to be here and to be honest I'm starting to feel that way too. But I can't help you if you're not willing to help yourself. Or at least cooperate, making my life and yours easier."

I bit my lip. I knew she was right, but I just didn't want to venture there just yet. I didn't want to tell her everything. Not yet.

"We'll start off easy," she continued, though I could sense she was hesitant about something. Looking at me with timidness and sincerity, she said the following words that I never thought she would say.

"How's your father?"

My heart skipped a beat. She had never asked about my father. She knew that was dangerous territory. However, some small part of me was glad she asked. My relationship with my father was a broken one and I knew that, but I never talked about it with another person besides my mother and I couldn't do that now. I took a deep breath.

"Timothy is fine" I responded tightly. Not wanting to share anymore about my father than that, I changed the topic.

"Weather is nice today" I said casually, as I tore my attention from her and onto the clear, blue sky. A beautiful summers day. I scowl. The atmosphere, the heat, the casualness. It was almost exactly the same as it was ten years ago.

"You're changing the subject Hermione" Evelyn reprimanded, clearly irate and trying to get a rise out of me.

"I don't like talking about it Evelyn," I whispered after a minute or two.

She looked at me. Surprised that I had indeed took the bait "hook line and sinker", and responded in a way she deemed acceptable, even if it was only minimally. Surprise quickly disappeared. She tilted her head, and I could sense the next question.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why not talk about it?"

Silence.

"What do you have to lose?" Evelyn asked softly.

"What do I have to gain?" I asked back, now irritated.

She was silent for a moment. A smug look spread across my face, believing that I'd won the argument. However, a second later she replied with an answer.

"Happiness."

I was that one word that made all the difference. It was the one thing I wanted so badly, yet deprived myself of it deliberately for a reason I did not fully understand. I didn't want to be depressed for the rest of my life and I didn't want to talk about my mother's death, but I knew I had to. I knew that the only way to move forward was to relive the past. Even for just a few minutes. It was what I was afraid of, but I knew I had to in hope to begin my life again.

Take it slow, I thought to myself. I can do this.

"I was ten when it happened. Ten when my life changed."

She positioned herself comfortably as she knew it was going to take a while, and then nodded her head beckoning me to continue.

"My childhood was an amazing one. Full of laughter and love. My parents at the time were happily married and life couldn't have been more perfect. Then, when I was four, my mother was diagnosed with schizophrenia. She got prescribed pills for it, but they didn't really have much effect." I say expressionlessly, staring into space.

"A few months after her diagnosis, my father decided that it was too much. That she was uncontrollable and beyond hope. He left her."

Evelyn looked at me with sympathy and I could sense she was slightly nervous, wondering where this was going. I curl my hands up and entwine them together in a plea for some form of comfort. Something I have deprived myself of for years. I bow my head, looking at my thin fingers and averting all eye contact I could have.

"He left her when she needed him the most. She was desperate for help, and I became the only one she had left."

Hesitant to continue, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Counting down from ten, I calmed myself and by the time I reached one, I knew I could go on.

"After the divorce following her diagnosis, my mother was never the same. She began to get depressed and scared. Hallucinating and not being able to control it was the worst. By the time I turned six, my mother was a completely different person. Isolated from the world, terrified to venture out or do anything. It was as if our roles had been reversed. I had to take care of my mother, instead of her caring for me. A six year old making food and cleaning the house. Having to go to school with dirty clothes because we didn't have enough money for washing powder."

I paused. Do not cry, I thought to myself. Remembering it all was painful. As if I was reliving it all over again. I looked out of the window onto the street as I resumed, hoping to distract me whilst I told Evelyn my story. I knew it wouldn't work.

"She hit rock bottom not long after my tenth birthday. It was a nice day. Much like today. The sun was out and I can remember seeing a flash of gold in her hair, even though it was only for a second. The mood quickly changed though. She started hallucinating and hearing voices. It was the worst I ever saw her. She was so worked up and out of control, when I went to touch her in attempt to calm her down, she hit me. She never hit me before, and I think it triggered something inside of her because she instantly stopped hallucinating and apologized to no end."

I touched my face, remembering where she had hit me that afternoon. Remembering how it had left a bruise for days. How I had to say that I had an accident when my teacher asked me what happened. How she fell on her hands and knees and wept for days, saying she was sorry. And myself. A ten year old, not knowing what hell to do.

"She never forgave herself. She was depressed even more after that, and started having more hallucinations than ever. It was about two months after my birthday when it happened."

I looked from the window back to Evelyn, who was sitting with both hands covering her mouth. I became aware that Evelyn did not know just how much I had been through. That I was just another girl who was depressed from her parents' divorce, or from losing her best friend. She couldn't have been more wrong, and from the look of sorrow on her face, she realized that too.

"It was nice night. The smell of summer was there and the stars were out and shining brightly. We even went to the park earlier that day. It was ever so warm, we had to stop and get an ice-cream. We just sat outside for ages. Just talking and being with each other. She seemed fine." I shake my head, still confused as to what brought her following behaviour on. I scrunch my eyes up, not wanting to relive it. But knowing that I have to.

"I remember being woken up by my mother at three in the morning. I remember asking if she was okay. She just looked blankly at me and told me to get dressed as we were going for a drive. I don't know where we drove to. I fell asleep in the car ride going there. All I remember is waking up in the middle of nowhere, and in front of us was a cliff."

I glanced at Evelyn. Her face was scrunched up mirroring my own, uncertain whether or not she wanted to hear the rest. I felt apologetic for having to tell her this as it was not her burden to bear. However, I reminded myself that it's her job, and forced myself to go on.

"I was confused and scared, much like her. She kept muttering things like how it would be better this way and how we had no one. That no one else loved us."

I paused, knowing this would be the climax of my story and would therefore be the most painful part to tell. A few tears fled from my eyes and I quickly wiped them away. Having been through enough as a child, I felt like I had cried enough tears for an entire lifetime. Not wanting to seem weak again, I promised myself not to cry even though I knew I wouldn't keep my promise.

"I looked at her then. Really looked at her. She had mad eyes that were almost red, her hair was tangled and dirty, and she was looking at me with her emotionless, flat and apathetic face that was once so beautiful, but in that moment left no trace of it. And then I realized that she wasn't my mother anymore. She was a stranger that couldn't be helped. Then she smiled. It was not her usual sweet smile, but a sadistic smile that did not belong to my mother. Then she said the last words she would ever say to me."

Evelyn was on the verge of tears by this point and on the edge of her seat. She looked at me intently and beckoned me to continue with nothing but her eyes.

""I love you." That's what she said. Then she started driving. It took me a moment to realize what she was doing. She was going to kill us both. I undid my seat-belt and threw myself out of that car. The last thing I remember was an explosion and the smell of fuel and burning flesh."

Evelyn covered her mouth in shock and proceeded to cry. I felt like doing the same, however nothing would come out. I was numb. I had been for ten years.

"About three hours had passed until someone found me sitting in the exact same spot in which I fell. They saw the car and called an ambulance. I couldn't move. I had a broken arm, a few cracked ribs and was in a state of shock. The next thing I knew, I was moving in with my father and Laryn my stepmother, and that was it. We never discussed it, ever. It was as if she had never existed."

I halted, and I tried to put into words what I had been feeling for what felt like my entire life.

"Terror became my childhood best friend, where the concept of love and compassion was an ever-distant dream I could only hope for."

"Oh Hermione! I'm so sorry" Evelyn sobbed.

I didn't know what to say. I was used to people saying they're sorry about my mothers death, but this was different. I had openly told her everything about that night. About everything. I gazed at her and I knew her apology was sincere. After Evelyn calmed herself down she looked at me and smiled. In that moment, she reminded me of my mother. The corners of my mouth twitched.

"That's the most you've talked since you've been here Hermione. It's progress, and it's just the beginning. Now that you've opened up to all of that maybe you can let people in, instead of pushing them away because you're afraid of losing another person in your life."

I nodded, unsure of what else I could do.

"Miss Godwin?! Miss Godwin?!" A rather scared-looking house elf asks, popping up out of nowhere scaring me senseless.

Evelyn smiles warmly at the house elf, and laughs softly to herself.

"Honestly Rosey, how many time must I ask you to call my Evelyn?" Still smiling, Evelyn asks the apprehensive house elf what was so very urgent that she had to interrupt her meeting. Hermione couldn't help but start to really like Evelyn. She was kind, considerate, understanding and above all she was kind to house elves unlike so many other Ministry employees. Unlike people in general. I made sure to make a mental note to ask her to join S.P.E.W next time I saw her.

"Yes! Sorry Miss Evelyn! Rosey is so very sorry! I have been sent by a Mr. Malfoy who urgently requires your assistance! He says you know why Miss Evelyn!"

Almost hyperventilating at this point, she finally stops to take a large gulp of breath before almost cowering by the door where she apparated in, having not moved an inch during the entire exchange of conversation. At hearing Malfoys name, Evelyn sat up straight and became nervous, at which she started playing with her long hair. Another tell-tale sign of hers that I picked up.

My focus however, was on the very person I hated. **Malfoy**. What the hell could he want? My mind was racing, going at the speed of a firebolt or even faster. After what felt like hours, I had settled on two very different conclusions.

The first of which I grimaced at the thought of.

My brain refused to believe that he was here to _see_ Evelyn, but judging by the way she became more attentive that_ might_ be a possibility.

No!

Evelyn was a muggle born like myself. She told me herself when we first met at an attempt to bond, and I know Malfoy. He wouldn't sully himself with a muggle born, no matter how rich, talented or beautiful she may be.

That left one other option.

He wanted therapy.

If Malfoy wanted therapy, why would he go to Evelyn? She's a therapist in the Ministry, one of the best I admit, but Malfoy inherited a large sum of money on top of his own after his father died that he could easily have gone to someone who isn't as busy, and is more "up to his standards." I continue to think until I heard Evelyns voice.

"Thank you Rosey. That will be all, you may leave now" she said warmly but there was another emotion in her voice. Anxiety.

"Yes Miss Evelyn. Yes indeed. Thank you Miss!" Rosey replied shakily, and with that she was gone. Leaving Evelyn and myself in the room.

Evelyn peered over at me before proceeding to tidy up her office in what I believed was to make it look more presentable. We were both silent. The only noise being made was that of the metal file cabinets opening and closing, and the paper files rustling around in her clumsy hands as she attempts to quickly put things away.

Getting uncomfortable, I decide to make my leave. Not wanting to remain in the silent filled room, but also anxious to get away from an incoming, and from what I heard, very desperate Malfoy. I pick up my bag, slinging it casually over my shoulder, before slowly getting out of my chair. However, before I get halfway across the room and to the door, my thoughts are interrupted.

"Hermione? Please wait for a second."

Evelyn had stopped what she was doing as she noticed my attempt of an easy and quick escape.

"I wish I could do that right now" she stated out of the blue. Slumping down into her beige leather chair, she looked exhausted. I looked at her expectantly. Thinking that she would continue to explain herself. when she didn't I asked the much prolonged question.

"Do what Evelyn?" I ask her softly. It seemed the tables had turned and I was giving _her_ therapy now.

She looks up at me, then proceeds to smile. It was a sad smile though,, unusual for her. She was always smiling, that was one of the reasons I liked her. It was very reassuring.

"Leave." I look at her confused.

"But you love your job!" I retort, earning myself a rather confused look back at me. I didn't know her very well; I hadn't been trying to before, but I wanted to now. I didn't want her to leave; she was slowly growing on me.

Suddenly she laughs. It was a loud laugh that had so much happiness in it I didn't think it was possible. Genuine. I smile back instinctively.

"Oh no my dear! I don't mean leave permanently. Just right now, so I don't have to deal with Mr. Malfoy" She breathed, finally controlling herself.

"Oh" I say bluntly, finally understanding what she was talking about.

Somehow I don't think I'd be getting house-points for that assumption.

Well.

It narrowed down my theories as to why he's here. Don't need to ask now.

"Well, he is a bit of an arsehole. What do you expect?" I say nonchalantly.

"A bit?" Evelyn responds wittily, exchanging slightly crude banter about Malfoy.

We both erupt into a fit of giggles, and before we know it, Rosey the house elf is back and looking more scared than ever. cutting Rosey off before she could even formulate a sentence, she told her to tell Malfoy she would be right out. With that Rosey smiled a small smile before bowing and left, leaving no trace she was even there.

We both calm ourselves down and look, seated smiling at one another, before Evelyn breaks the silence and asks the dreaded question I know she's been waiting to ask.

"How do you feel Hermione?" She asked softly.

I looked at her, and for the first time in ten years, I see hope. That maybe I can have happiness again, and that I can move forward instead of looking back.  
Relief swept through me, and I did the only thing I could think of. Something that belonged to my I hadn't properly done in years. I smiled. Her smile. I got up, ready to leave our session. Just as I had reached the door with the exquisite brass handle in my grasp, I turned to Evelyn and replied with confidence and complete honesty.

"Hopeful."

And with that, I was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi guys, I'm really happy with how this story is turning out, and thank you to everyone who has read it. I really appreciate it.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it. A bit of a cliff hanger but i'll upload soo, i promise. Im in the mood to write so, it should be uploaded soon :)

Enjoy

x

Chapter 2

* * *

It had been three weeks since her life changing therapy session with Evelyn, and Hermione was still attempting to avoid a certain blonde haired someone. The constant battle of leaving Evelyn's office to go home without bumping into Draco Malfoy was beginning to prove a difficult task at hand. On numerous occasions Hermione had heard his silky, masculine voice from around a corner towards Evelyn's office, causing her to hide behind a pot plant or jump into the nearest room. Luckily, so far no one had seen her desperate attempts of avoiding _him_ so she was in the clear. For now.

On the brighter side, Hermione's sessions had been going a lot better, despite Malfoy's continuous emergence. Right now, she was sitting in the old oak room with mug of Earl Grey tea in her hand from the cafeteria, facing Evelyn with a Cheshire cat grin on her face; showing the dimples she had inherited from her late mother.

"You seem in a perky mood today Mione." Evelyn stated at random, as she sat down in her leather chair and was squirming in attempt to get in a comfortable sitting position. She raised an eyebrow at once with a wicked gleam in her eye.

"You haven't taken anything have you?" Evelyn joked, smiling back at the young witch.

The two witches erupted with laughter.

Throughout the past three weeks, Hermione had begun to really enjoy her therapy sessions. The reason for this was Evelyn. Her honesty and attitude had made Hermione realise what she was missing. Her life. And over the sessions they had spent with one another, they had become more than just acquaintances, but dear friends. She felt like she needed another friend at the moment, what with Harry and Ginny being loved up as usual and Ron, well...being Ron; shagging anything that moves, which at the moment was Lavender. The little tramp. Understandably, she felt lonely. In need of someone to talk to. It just so happened that the very person she was meant to be talking to was not only her therapist, but had turned out to be a close and honest friend of hers. Hermione was enjoying her conversations and time with Evelyn so much so that she had asked for an extra session a week, just so that she could spend time with Evelyn and have someone to talk to. It eventually got to the point where they would just meet for lunch at the Ministry cafeteria and have a chat every day. And today was one of those days.

"No Evelyn, I am not under the influence of any drugs, legal or illegal, magical or muggle." I chuckled, taking a sip of my tea.

There was a slight pause; Evelyn waited for me to proceed.

"I saw Harry and Ginny though."

Eyes peaked over the top of her cup, holding Hermione's gaze. Surprise had her for a moment, until Evelyn stopped drinking her coffee and broke out into a pearly white smile. She was happy for me.

"Really?! That's great Hermione!" Evelyn practically screamed. Surprised, I merely giggled at her sudden outburst.

"How was it? What did you all do? Where did you meet them? Was it planned or just coincidence? How long did you see them for? Did you see Ron? Oh god, you didn't kill him did you, metaphorically speaking of course?" Exhaling deeply, she slumped back in her chair with both elbows on the table and her hands holding her head, looking expectantly at me with her big, turquoise eyes.

She spoke so quickly, I felt like I didn't understand _half_ of what she had just said.

I just sat there, blinking and looking at her with my mouth wide open with a confused look on my face.

It is one of the facial expressions that I rarely ever display, as usually, I understand what is going on.

Now was not one of those times.

Well, I bet I look super sexy...

"Well?" Evelyn asks.

I think I look more like a hippogriffs arse to be honest.

I close my mouth, and blink a few times, trying to get my mind round what has just happened.

"Can you repeat the question?" I ask hesitantly, looking down reluctantly whilst biting my lip.

Evelyn pursed her lips. Though a woman in her thirties, she loved a good story and gossip, and hated to be kept waiting and out of the loop.

"Okay..." she said, taking a deep breath and taking my hands into hers, leaning forward over the desk slightly.

I won't deny, this freaked me out a bit.

I knew we were friends but I didn't think hand holding was what friends do, considering the way she was looking at me and how close her face was to mine.

In fact, this could be considered quite lesbian-y.

I was about to tell her so when she began talking again.

"Did...You...Have...A...Nice...Time?" she asked slowly, making sure to punctuate every word and syllable as if she was talking to a three year old.

Ah.

So that's why she was holding my hand.

She thinks I'm a twat.

Right.

"Yes" I respond with a small smile.

Evelyn releases my hands and resumes her original position, which is further away from my face thankfully.

"Good!" she answers cheerfully, before taking a swig of her black coffee.

"How was it?"

I recall the events that occurred earlier this week, my mood suddenly back to its chipper self.

"Oh Ev, It was amazing to see them again! I missed them so much it hurts" I say, wishing I had spent more time since the war with them.

"I got an owl from Harry the other day inviting me over for lunch. When I got there, it was as if I had never left. We chatted for hours, about Harry's job at the Ministry as Head Auror and Ginny's quidditch profession. Anyway, we had lunch and dinner, then come late evening and a few bottles of wine later they told me they were getting married!" I exclaim ecstatically, with a smile on my face that could light up a room.

"That's great, they're made for each other I recon!" Evelyn replies, clapping her hands enthusiastically at the news, as she too knows Harry and Ginny via working in the Ministry. Occasionally, she is requested in the Auror section in attempt to help people who have been affected by Dark Wizards, or to help the Dark Wizards themselves. Needless to say, Evelyn ad Harry have crossed paths a few times before, and she's met Ginny on the many occasions she has visited Harry at work.

Taking another gulp of her coffee she asks,

"What about Ron?"

I shrug, displaying my uninterest in the topic.

"We only spoke briefly about Ron. Ginny told me that he and Lavender are also engaged, even though he allegedly cheated on her with Romilda Vane with days before. What a tosspot. I mean, as much as I want to bitch slap that annoying face of hers, even _she_ doesn't deserve _that_." I tut, irritated at his idiocy.

"But Harry and Ginny! Gosh, I was so happy for them Ev!" I squeal in happiness at the thought of my best friends were getting married.

"Was?" Evelyn asks me.

"So you're not happy now?" She purses her lips, trying to understand where I'm coming from.

To be honest, I didn't even realise that I had made my mistake. I slipped up without meaning to, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was significant. I think.

"I am happy for them, don't get me wrong. I guess...after hearing that all of my friends are getting married and moving on with their lives, I'm just stuck here thinking..."what the hell am I doing? Why aren't I moving forward?"" I ruefully reply, with a sad smile on my face I know Evelyn will understand.

Evelyn looks at me and I can sense a meaningful question on the verge of being asked.

Just when I thought we were having a nice, relaxing, _friendly _conversation.

"If you don't mind me asking Mione..." I brace myself, sitting up straight and squinting my eyes slightly, waiting for the impact of the question.

" How did you feel? Like the old Hermione or the young woman who was in a cocoon of self banishment?"

The mood changed slightly. That was my relationship with Evelyn. We would both go from having fun, light-hearted conversations, to being buried in each other's deepest fears or darkest secrets. Really digging deep to explore our feelings. I never got upset with her about it though. I admit, sometimes it really pissed me the hell off, but it's not her fault. She just can't always turn it off. It like a habit she has. Her habit for wanting to help people desperately.

"I felt like..." I search for a word to describe my feeling at the time.

"_Me_. I just felt like myself. For the first time in months. But it wasn't whilst I was asking or seeing Harry and Ginny, it was when I felt the house and got home. I felt...normal again." I answer her question. I can see she's smiling, and we both know I've made progress in the last three weeks.

I finish my tea and place the large mug on her rather messy desk, which until now I didn't realize.

Suspicious.

Evelyn is an extremely tidy person, a clean freak one might say. Why the hell are there papers and folders scattered across her table?

"Evelyn, why is your office a tip?" I ask looking round, finally meeting her gaze.

She leans back in her chair and rubs her eyes, and with a big yawn she replies,

"Malfoy."

That git.

"He's been occupying my time for a while, and it's getting difficult to get everyone's files sorted out with his constant persistence." She snapped, motioning to the crumpled pieces of paper and the folders on her desk.

"Why can't you just, I don't know...**_give _**him to someone else to sort out?" I ask, outraged that Malfoy was affecting Evelyn this way. She had enough on her plate anyway, without Malfoy butting into it.

Evelyn chuckled.

"Well, as much as I would**_love_** to "give him to someone else" as you so put it, I can't. Malfoy has specifically requested me, and I'm available. That's just the way things work around here. End of."

I scrunch my face in confusion.

"But you said you had lots of other, new clients this month!"

She looks at me and rolls my eyes, obviously understanding my confusion. She strains a smile and begins to tidy her desk.

"Well, that's what I thought too. _But_, I just so happens that a certain someone had been going round persuading my potential clients that either I am a shit therapist or that I am mentally unstable! Now my time is being devoted to you, a few others and Malfoy, just so that he can have more time with me! The arsehole!"

Her voice was raised now, and I could tell how angry and upset she was, but despite Malfoy trying to sabotage her work, I was **still **trying to repress my laughter.

I hated to admit it, but what Malfoy had done was hilarious. By telling people she was insane was funny by itself, but telling people that a _therapist_ was insane was a whole other thing.

He was taking the piss.

And he knew he would get away with it.

I scowl.

What a git.

My laughter stops immediately, and I look at Evelyn who looks like she is about to explode, red in the face and rage burning in her eyes. I might even go to extent to say that she might hex him if she sees him anytime soon.

Oh well...one can hope.

Her sigh brings me back to earth.

"Well, at least he's paying me triple of what I would be paid normally." She sighs, attempting to make herself feel better.

I laugh and round the corner of table so I was facing her, and pull her into a hug. I release her and pick up my bag, lying untouched on the floor and make my way to the door.

"I'll see you later Ev!" I call out to her.

"Probably tomorrow knowing you Mione!" she retorts.

I laugh with my back to her. I turn to close the door, smile and say my last goodbyes, leaving her to fend off the dreadful Malfoy by herself.

With my back against the door to her office, I am suddenly surrounded by Ministry employees.

I sigh, thinking to myself that would fit perfectly here. I silently reprimand myself for rejecting my dream job months ago, and sullying myself with a little job in a bookshop on Oxford street, close to my flat. Luckily, since I was earning a fair amount of money from working there, I didn't need my father's money or his threat so I told him to go to hell and we haven't spoken since.

Thank fuck.

Even though I enjoy working at the bookshop, it's not fulfilling. I work tedious and long hours and feel very put out by it, often finding myself daydreaming about what it would be like to work at the Ministry as the assistant of the Minister for Magic. I knew that I would be perfect for the job, but they found a replacement for her when she rejected the job. No doubt that they were doing a great job.

What's done is done, I think. It was my own fault for not accepting the offer.

I casually stroll to the elevators, daydreaming about how my life _could_ have turned out. Jolted away from my thoughts as I heard the ping of the elevators, informing me that my ride was here.

I hop in, and wait silently for the ground floor to appear right in front of me. When it does, I casually walk out, beginning to day-dream again, with a goofy grin on my face.

In my own little world, I didn't hear anyone calling my name.

"Hermione."

Meandering through the crowd of people going to and from their jobs here, I was wishing it was me.

"Hermione!"

Still unaware of the calling in the background, I pass the monument in the middle of the headquarters' atrium. I stop, and stare at it. Remembering the last time I looked at it. It was a different statue then. It was Voldemort's statue of "Magic Is Might," representing the muggles in their rightful places; under wizards. I grimace.

Thank god that he's gone.

We've come so far now.

I've come so far.

"HERMIONE!"

I spin round so quickly I almost lose my balance. Shocked at the persons sudden outburst, I consider yelling back, until I realize who it is.

"Kingsley!" I squeal, jumping up to envelop him in a big hug.

"Finally! I've been calling your name for ages." He smiles back, releasing my tiny body.

"I haven't heard anything. You know me, in my own little world half the time." I grin.

He chuckles at me. I know he's not upset, but I do know that he has something important to talk to me about. Probably some advice on something Ministry related that they can't figure out. I mentally prepare myself for an exciting and challenging question.

"What's up?" I ask, wanting to hear the problem.

"I've been trying to catch you every time you come in here, but you're always so quick at leaving, I never get the chance to talk to you."

Surprise registers on my face. I didn't know he had been trying to catch me after my meetings with Evelyn every time. I suddenly feel guilty about rushing out, then I think about why I rush.

"I just don't want to see Malfoy. It's nothing personal." I declare, wanting to be professional yet friendly to show it was not intentional on both our friendship and his profession.

"Ah yes, young Mr. Malfoy. He has been coming here a lot recently; personal matters I believe in addition to working alongside the Ministry on occasion. He's grown up quite a bit though since his school days. Still a tosser though, but not as bad" he sniggers.

I splutter.

Malfoy working with the Ministry!

What has the world come to?

"He works for the ministry? Since when!" I gasp.

"Only sometimes Hermione. He has friends in high places and has a knack of persuading people. He helps us quite often actually. He's amazing at generating revenue from a combination of human, physical and financial capital. So naturally he's asked to help with the He pitches idea's to people outside the Ministry and has meeting's with them in order to get what we want and to expand. It's basic economics. Why do you think he is doing so well at his job?" he asks gently.

Smiling, Kingsley looks down at me with kind eyes.

I don't know what to say. I never thought that Malfoy would collaborate with the Ministry in a thousand years, let alone voluntarily. I didn't even know he worked. I thought he would have become an aristocrat or something.

A pimp maybe.

Had I isolated myself so much since the end of the war and school that I didn't know what my arch enemy was working as? Jesus Christ.

Brightest witch of her age my arse.

"What is he working as?" I hesitantly ask, feeling idiotic and embarrassed for not knowing what was going on in the world.

Kingsley's eyes bulge open, not believing that I don't know what his job was.

"Hermione where have you been!?" he cries.

I hang my head. Disappointed in myself for not keeping up with everyone.

"Malfoy is head of "Malfoy Industries" now. Since his father passed away, he's inherited his father's status, and I must say...he's doing an amazing job. Much better than his father." He says gently, reaching for my hand. The look of shock on my face must have told him how secluded I had been.

Am I stupid?

How could I have **not** known that he would have inherited his fathers business. It's so obvious when you think about it. God, I think my brain is becoming like Lavender's; empty.

Leading me into his office, he sits me down and begins to talk in a businesslike manner.

"Hermione, I did not want to discuss Malfoy with you. I want to ask you something."

Finally granting him with my full attention, though still shocked by this earlier information about Malfoy, I listen intently.

"As you know, a couple months ago I offered you a place as my assistant. When you declined however another took your place." He speaks slowly, building anticipation.

I do remember. I think about it every day, wishing I could take it back. I wait silently.

"Well, it turns out that the man hired for the job was not proficient in the task and was less than capable, so we had to let him go."

I look at him with wide eyes. Is he saying what I think he's saying?

He smiles at me, showing the wrinkles under his brown eyes.

"The offer still stands Hermione, if you want it."

I break into a huge grin and practically throw myself over the table at him. Then I realize this is not a good way to start as the Ministers assistant and I control myself.

"Sorry!" I say, smoothing out my skirt and fixing my hair, where strands had come out of the bun that it was previously in.

"I take that as a yes then," he asks laughing.

"One hundred percent! Absolutely, yes! I won't let you down Kingsley! I promise." I shriek gleefully.

"Haha, great! Well then, as you're so enthusiastic you can start on Monday. That gives you six days, considering it's Tuesday today. And it gives you enough time to sort out any other work positions you are in currently and other things. Is that okay?"

"That's perfect" I reply, still giddy-ish from what was happening.

"Good. I'll sort out the paperwork. Just be here at eight on Monday morning and then you can get started straight away. Now go home and have a nice week, lord knows you'll need it come Monday. We've got lots of stuff for you to do Hermione, best be rested for it." He beamed at me.

"I won't let you down Kingsley." I got up out of the seat and begun making my way to the door when I stopped. I turned round to face him and ran into his arms. He was surprised at first, then after a few seconds he relaxed and his arms went round my waist, hugging me back.

"I just wanted to say thank you. I regretted not taking this job before and I know there are hundreds of other people who would be suited for this position that you could give it to, so thank you for allowing me another chance." I tell him as we break apart.

I smile and make my way to the door. Just before I close it, he calls out, causing me to open the door again.

He looks at me with a wonderful smile on his face.

"It was always yours Hermione. It was never anyone else's; just yours."

My eyes become blurry and I smile quickly before shutting the door and leaning my body against it.

I breathe a sigh of overpowering happiness. I have a sudden urge to tell Evelyn, but she will be in a meeting at the moment, so I decide against it. I consider telling Harry too, but realize that he will also be busy.

I sigh.

I control my emotions, not wanting to cry in the middle of the hallway. I shake it off and make my way to the Atrium.

I begin to make my way to the Floo network so I can finally go home after an exhausting and emotional day.

As I reach my destination, I grab a large handful of Floo powder, about to step inside the emerald fireplace, when I hear a silky voice behind me.

"Well, look who it is..."

Oh no.


	3. Chapter 3

Hiya, Chapter 3 is up now, hope you like it. I'm trying to write as fast as i can because i'm having so much fun with it. But i'll try and upload another this week.

Enjoy

Steph

X

* * *

**Fuck. My. Life**.

Just when my day was finally going well, _Draco Malfoy_ comes into the picture to fuck it all up.

Fucking super!

Right, what do I do? I've been standing with my back to him for about a minute now, covered in soot from dropping the Floo powder earlier and possibly looking like the hunchback of Notre dame. So he probably already thinks I'm a twat. A bigger one than when we were at school at least.

Great.

Trying my luck, I quickly reached for more Floo powder to make a quick getaway. I raise my had above my head, opening my mouth to speak my destination, when something cold grabs my wrist firmly from behind.

I freeze.

"Now now Granger, where are your manners? Assuming you had any to begin with of course. But nevertheless, a simple hello would suffice. It's only polite."

I can sense the trademark smirk that is formed on his face even though my back is still to him. He lowers my arm slowly so it's back down by my side, still holding on to it with a firm grasp. I can feel him move closer towards me, until I feel his body pressed up against mine. I feel his breath on my neck and his scene that was always so inviting.

Arrogant arse.

I know why he's doing this. He wants to get a rise out of me because he enjoys it. Well he won't, I can tell you that. He may be pushing the boundaries but I won't give him the satisfaction of breaking first. I stay still, my face looking straight ahead.

"Well? I'm waiting." He gently caresses, releasing his grip on my wrist slightly.

His voice is like liquid silk, but his tone is different. It's not the cold, hard voice that spend time at Hogwarts, insulting me and my friends, this was a new one. Almost happy. The emotion in this voice was there, not venomous or monotone like it was at school. I know Kingsley told me he had changed but I didn't expect him to change much.

We'll see, wont we.

I huff, sick of his game and wanting to get home. Right. Time to take the bull by the horns. I'm just going to act like an adult twenty year old that I am, and be civil to him so I can go home. I yank my hand out of his grasp and turn round impatiently.

My eyes bulge open.

Holy fuck, he was gorgeous!

This was certainly a new Malfoy. I always knew he was good-looking, there was no doubt about that. But he knew it too. He was arrogant about it in school, and as a result, he took full advantage of it and begun to bed any girls that took his fancy.

This was different.

It was as if he didn't care that he looked good, he just did. Like he had other things on his mind aside from looking good and bedding women. Hands in his pockets, standing casually, I could sense his stare.

He was effortlessly handsome.

I eyed him up and down starting at his feet and working my way upwards. He had on black dress shoes that had been polished mercilessly, on his probably size nine feet. He was wearing his trademark suit, in the traditional colour black. The black fabric, hung off his body in a way that seemed so effortlessly beautiful and clung to him in all the right places, deliberately showing off his masculine and muscular arms. A dark blue shirt with a white collar was visible under his jacket, matching his navy tie. In the pocket of his jacket a cream silk handkerchief was peaking out, almost identical to his hair. His hair was no longer greased back, flattening his hair but product-less and healthy looking. Almost glowing. His hair had grown a little since the last time we saw each other. Now it was slightly longer and was doing a marvellous job at framing his face angular and enhancing his strong jaw.

Then his eyes met mine.

Piercing baby blue's that you could gaze at for hours on end, mesmerized by them. He had that wicked glint in them. It was a look that I had known since the moment we stepped on the Hogwarts Express our first time. It was **his**. No one else could pull of the Draco Malfoy look, apart from the man himself. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his. Minutes pass. Still staring at him, I don't realize he begins to speak.

"You might want to close your mouth Granger. I know I have that affect on people but you don't want to catch any Lacewing Flies in there would you?"

Suddenly, all the attraction I had for him in that fleeting moment vanished, and in its place was intense rage.

Guess he hasn't changed _that_ much then.

How could he be so cocky? Has he no shame? Still standing there with an amused expression and smirk firmly in place, I have a sudden urge to kick him.

Preferably in the balls.

Then I realize that I have just acquired myself a job as the Minister for Magic's Assistant and I can't be acting like a child. Let alone kicking people in the balls. That would not end well. Instead I gather my Gryffindor courage and hold my head high.

"Hello Malfoy. Long time no see. Shame to break the routine huh?" I say sarcastically, beginning to make my way around him to another fireplace in attempt to get away from him. I hear him snigger.

"I was just saying hello Granger. What's wrong with that?" he calls, following me to the fireplace on the opposite side, meandering his way through the crowd to me. I don't have as much luck. In my attempt to quickly get across the room, I was bombarded by the crowd of people wanting to get to and from work and was currently stuck, halfway to my destination in the middle of the foyer. He's beside me in a matter of seconds. Pulling me back to the Atrium, away from my means of transport home, I begin to get pissed.

"What the hell Malfoy?" I ask venomously.

"God, will you quit complaining Granger! I'm buying you a coffee, you look like you need it."

I shut up immediately. Until he said that I was completely unaware of my surroundings, mainly focussing on his hand entwined with mine.

This is not good.

Why was I prioritising Malfoy over my, rather important, sense of direction? And why was he offering to buy me coffee? What has the world come to? It was just plain weird.

We were halfway to the cafeteria, by the Ministry Monument when I gently squeeze his hand to get his attention. His determined walk slows, and he turns to face me. Curiosity fills his eyes.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" He asks, examining my face searching for an answer.

"No...I mean yes. I'm fine, nothing's wrong. It's just, I don't need a coffee. What I need is to go home after a long day of work and relax. Not have coffee with someone who will just insult me the whole time." I ramble, looking at his face.

His head jolts back as if he had just been slapped with a look of surprise on his face, followed quickly by something else. It takes me a few moment till I realize that I must have hurt his feelings somehow. I'm suddenly tempted to give him a hug. I decide that it's not a good idea, Malfoy's aren't the hugging types. Without realizing it, I move slightly closer to him and place my left hand over our already entwined hands. He stills, unsure what I am doing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just tired." I say softly, trying to make him feel better, for reasons that are beyond my knowledge.

"Yes you did. You meant every word. It's understandable." He sighs, leaning against the monument before slinking down to sit on it. I follow suit, sitting closely next to him, hands still holding. He runs his free hand through his blonde hair, a notion I learnt in school symbolizing when he is stressed or nervous. I remember when he used to do it in exams all the time. I smile, before stopping myself. What am I doing?! His body relaxes and he stares off into space, not meeting my eyes.

"I've been nothing but awful to you since we first met I know. But I never wanted to, believe me when I say that. I was brought up in a world where anyone that wasn't pureblood was shunned and disgusting. It just so happens you were one of those people. On top of that, we get sorted into houses, resulting in rivalry between each of us. It was bound to happen at one point or another, if you were a muggleborn or not. To be honest, I think we would have been quite good friends if the school houses and blood lines weren't in the picture. We were both top of our classes and both enjoy some of the same things. I think we would have gotten on rather well. I know you probably hate me though, so I know there's not a chance in hell that it will ever happen but...come on Hermione. I've just had a proper conversation with you and haven't insulted you once have I?" he exclaims after his monologue is finished.

I remain silent, thinking about what he has just said. It's true, we were both best in class and were interested in similar things. I can't really sympathize with his upbringing as it's something I have never known. It was a lot different to mine. I understand where he's coming from.

Then I realize what he's just said.

Something he said that marks his change as a person. Not the fact that he had a civilized conversation with me. Or that he was being nice. Or that he called me a muggleborn instead of a mudblood.

"You just called me Hermione" I breathe. He stares at me, a small grin playing on his face obviously amused at my comprehension.

"Yes Hermione, I just said you're name. I have changed you know" he states smugly.

"Really? Why the sudden change then?" I ask hoping he would catch the sarcasm in my voice. Instead I see a flash of something in his eyes, but a second later it was gone and he was back to his normal self, charismatic as ever.

"Well, after I found out that the "so-called most-powerful dark wizard in the world", who happened to be a half-blood himself, twat, was finally destroyed by the Golden Trio; a half-blood, a blood-traitor, and a muggle-born…I realized that it was just a load of shit." He replies chuckling. I smile at him, earning a genuine smile back. My eyes briefly land on a pair of women behind Malfoy who are talking heatedly to one another, pointing and looking at myself and Malfoy.

What the hell are they looking at? I think to myself. Curious, I take this opportunity to look round the room. It was then that I realized just how many people had stopped to look at us. When I caught their eyes they immediately resumed their business, acting as if nothing had happened even though they had been caught.

Then it hits me, and my eyes bulge out of their sockets.

I look back at Malfoy who's looking at me, smiling.

From an outsider's point of view I realize what this must look like. I immediately untwine my hand with his and stand up, knocking my bag over and spilling the contents out in the process. I hurriedly snatch up everything that's fallen out and throw it in my bag. Spinning round to collect everything, hair going wild, Malfoy just sits there looking at me as if I've just grown two heads.

"What the hell are you doing woman?"

"What does it look like you idiot? I've just knocked my bag open." I say utterly crouching on the floor, embarrassed and livid at all the attention I was getting. When I resume my standing position, he is in front of me, hands in his pockets.

"I meant, why are you picking things up like a muggle when you could just wave your wand like the witch you are. Though, I must say, post-Hogwarts, you certainly have lost some of your intelligence. Just saying, you might want to work on that."

I saw red.

That little fucker.

Have I said how much I hate him yet?

How dare he insult me right after saying how good friends we could have been and reminding me that he hasn't insulted me yet. Well, he has now. Well done.

"Prick!" I say childishly unable to provide a wittier comeback than that.

He laughs at my face.

I turn round and stomp off, leaving Malfoy by the Monument laughing his arse off at my stupidity.

"Look..."

I almost jump out of my skin hearing him so close. I was unaware that he had followed me and was practically on top of me. He grabs my arms so I can't leave.

"I'm sorry, It's just funny to see you get so worked up. It's quite sexy actually."

Excuse me?

Did Draco Malfoy, _sex god,_ just say I was sexy? He can't be serious.

I meet his eyes, and I'm convinced. Surprised, but convinced. Sure enough, he's looking at me with lust filled eyes as if he wants nothing more than to take me into a dark corner and ravish me right here and now.

I gulp and I mentally slap myself for not minding that idea either.

Shit!

Get a hold of yourself Hermione! It's just Malfoy...

"Anyway" he continues,

"I need to get going. Business meeting you know. The usual. But I was thinking...Since you rejected my proposition for a coffee today, perhaps tomorrow would be better. I'm here tomorrow at around eleven. Perhaps we can resume this...interesting conversation then?"

He all but stated this arrangement, as if it was definitely happening, with my consent or not. I was about to protest when he releases me and begins to walk off.

"What? Malfoy! I don't want to!" I shout to him, hoping he would hear me over the large crowd surrounding me. He spins round, though still walking backwards.

"Of course you want to! Who wouldn't? See you at eleven, and don't be late Granger!" he yells, laughing as he does.

And just like that, he was gone and she was alone again.

I turn round and walk slowly, defeated, to the fireplace to _finally_ head home. I crane my head round to see if he was still there, but he wasn't. My heart sank.

**What?!**

Why do I feel upset he wasn't there, looking back at me? It's not like I am _in love_ with him or something. He's arrogant, vile and a bully. Who would want to date that? Not me, that's for sure.

_He's still handsome though. _

Fuck!

I roughly snatch the powder from the glass container, earning myself a few disapproving looks from bypasses, and stomp into the fireplace.

"Number 18, Victoria Street, Westminster!" I scream angrily, leaving the people in front of me tutting.

Good! I think childishly.

The flames engulfed me, and within seconds I had landed in the living room of my tiny flat.

I sigh.

Thank god I'm home.

Exhausted from the tiring and shocking day, I flopped out onto the sofa and closed my eyes. Replaying the events that went on today, I come to the conclusion that...I have no idea what I'm doing. I have a "_date_" with Draco Malfoy, if you could call it that. It's a coffee in the Ministry, not very private. Or romantic, might I add.

A shit date to be perfectly frank.

But the more I think about it, the more excited I become. I have a **date** with Draco Malfoy. What does one wear on a date? It's times like these where I wish I saw Ginny more, she would know what to do.

I take my head in my hands and exhale loudly.

I'm twenty and I've never been on a date. How sad is that? I've only "dated" two boys in my life, Viktor and Ron, and even then it never got too serious. I'm still a virgin and have only been kissed a couple times including them two. I've been hesitant about relationships since I was young. Growing up in a broken family did not help that, watching my parents relationship dwindle into nothing was the first of many examples. So I try to steer clear of men all together. I admit, having two men as my best friends was not planned, but we just clicked at the time. I was more surprised than anyone. And although I'm still friends with Harry, it's more sisterly than anything else now.

But this thing with Malfoy was different. He was different. He was more polite. More charming. **Nicer**.

I impulsively get up and get myself a glass of red wine; the standard result after a hectic day. Walking to the kitchen I pass Crookshanks who awoke upon my return and had been patiently waiting for his dinner. I pour the cat food into his bowl and place it on the floor besides a happy Crookshanks.

Whilst he beings munching on his dinner, I head over to the sofa again, picking up a blanket on the way there and wrapping myself in it before plonking down and getting myself comfortable. I _need _to get him off my mind. Although I don't know _why_ he's there to begin with. I reach for my book, Pride and Prejudice, and begin reading where I left off. I realize after a minute or two that I am re-reading the same line over and over again, not processing anything. I throw the book down on the floor, making a loud thud and startling Crookshanks.

"I'm sorry Crookshanks. I'm just a bit confused at the moment," I sigh dejectedly. Sensing my unhappy mood, he leaves his food and jumps up on the sofa before nestling into my lap purring loudly. This is his way of making me feel better. As I stroke him, I stare into space, trying to make my decision. Would I or wouldn't I meet with him tomorrow for a coffee?

My mind kept going round in circles and I couldn't decide. I huffed, disturbing the beginning of Crookshanks sleep. He looked up at me questioningly. I gave him a small smile which he was satisfied with, and returns to his position between my crossed legs and began to fall asleep again.

I was debating with myself and couldn't make up my mind.

Part of me is desperate to take him up on the offer, for some unknown reason. I feel compelled to. He obviously has changed, I can see it myself. He was rather pleasant with me today, and even offered me a compliment! So I'm stuck here thinking "sure I'll go, why not? What's the worst that could happen?"

But then I think..."What is wrong with me? It's Malfoy!" And I remember that he is the boy who insulted me for years. Who made me cry and think the worst of myself. Who put me down and made me feel worthless.

I'm torn.

I turn the radio on in attempt to distract me, listening to the first song that comes on.

Everybody's Changing by Keane.

How ironic.

I consider changing the song and reach for the button until I hear the lyrics. I freeze and withdraw my hand so it's in my lap on top of Crookshanks. I listen to the lyrics...

You say you wander your own land  
But when I think about it  
I don't see how you can

You're aching, you're breaking  
And I can see the pain in your eyes  
Says everybody's changing  
And I don't know why

So little time  
Try to understand that I'm  
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game  
I try to stay awake and remember my name  
But everybody's changing  
And I don't feel the same

You're gone from here  
Soon you will disappear  
Fading into beautiful light  
'Cause everybody's changing  
And I don't feel right

So little time  
Try to understand that I'm  
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game  
I try to stay awake and remember my name  
But everybody's changing  
And I don't feel the same

So little time  
Try to understand that I'm  
Trying to make a move just to stay in the game  
I try to stay awake and remember my name  
But everybody's changing  
And I don't feel the same

Oh  
Everybody's changing  
And I don't feel the same

My throat contracts and I squeeze my eyes shut tight. It was amazing how one song could be so significant at one particular point in my life; how it could be so important.

Everybody's changing.

That's true. Everybody **is **changing. Harry and Ginny are getting married. So are Ron and Lavender. They all have amazing jobs; aside from Lavender who works at Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions shop in Diagon Alley. But she's changed too. Through working at the Beautifying Potions shop she has discounts on all the products, thus making her quite beautiful to be honest. Must to mine and Ginny's distaste.

She's still a slut.

Admittedly, I've now landed my dream job, but that was just luck. If I hadn't stayed at Evelyn's as long as I did today, Kingsley wouldn't have caught up with me, and I would still be stuck with my crummy little job. I'm over the moon that I have it, but I just can't help but think that "everybody's changing and I don't feel the same" in the words of Keane. Emotionally and literally.

Everybody's changing.

Then I think of Malfoy. Even though he plays a good game and puts up a facade, I can see straight through it. Mainly because I do the exact same thing. I know about it all too well. I know that inside he is aching and breaking. And sometimes in moments of weakness when he lets his guard down, I can see the pain in his eyes. Just like me. Just like the song.

It was a sign.

He was no longer that boy; the bully. He was Draco Malfoy, _the man_. Who had grown up. He was the man who made all the sacrifices for his family. He had been forced to grow up quickly. Like myself. We were so **very** alike. I understood that at once.

And then it was decided.

I smiled to myself.

I switch off the radio and got up slowly, carrying a sleeping Crookshanks in my arms, and make my way through the hallway to my bedroom. I place him on the bed and he immediately curls up, probably dreaming about eating another extendable ear from the joke shop. I strip down to my plain underwear and get into bed, thinking about what tomorrow would entail. I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming about a certain blonde haired man. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, unbeknown to me.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I would have coffee with Draco Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hiya,**

**Sorry for this chapter not being what is was intentionally going to be but I thought that instead of squeezing everything in, I would save Draco for the next chapter where I would focus mainly on him and Hermione. :)**

**Thanks for your support,**

**Steph.**

**X**

* * *

Today was not my day.

And it was only just beginning.

I woke up with a start, after dreaming about a blonde haired man whispering sweet nothing's into my ear, casing me to shiver at the sensation. Due to my abrupt awakening, I grabbed the duvet and in the process, accidentally woke Crookshanks by tipping him off the bed.

Suffice to say, he was less than pleased.

Grumpy and tired, he glares up at me before sulking out of the room into the hallway before giving me one last look probably thinking "I might kill you tonight." Just my luck.

Death by cat.

I'll have to make sure to have that written on my gravestone.

I turn over and face-plant the pillow, groaning inwardly at the idea of getting out of bed. I look over on my bedside table at my crappy little alarm clock.

9:30 am.

I do a double take.

WHAT?!

How on earth did I oversleep? I never do that. I'm always up at nine at the latest. Crap.

Bolting out of bed after seeing the time, I sprint to the bathroom, stripping off my clothes in the process. By the time I get to the bathroom, I am completely naked, clothes thrown all over the place. I'll have to clean that up later.

I jump in the tiny shower and begin to wash myself, starting from my head downwards. I know I could easily have used magic and been ready in half the time, but I always feel more satisfied when I do things the muggle way. It's a habit that I've had and developed since birth. Halfway through washing my hair, I hear my phone ring.

Harry.

He is the only one who calls me these days, aside from my boss at the bookshop. The only reason he has a phone really is to get hold of me as a last resort if I don't answer his Floo or owl. He also got used to doing things the muggle way whilst he was living with his uncle and aunt, so he too has developed this habit.

With shampoo in my eyes, I carelessly hop out the shower, tripping over the shower lip in the process which earns me a stubbed toe as a result. Cursing loudly, I hurry over to my phone, getting to it luckily just before the last ring.

"Hello!" I breathe, grimacing as I hold my subbed and now throbbing toe in my hand.

"Hermione, are you okay? You sound odd."

Harry's voice echoes from the other end of the phone, and I can tell he's already stressed. The last thing he needs is his best friend hurt or in trouble. I reassure him quickly.

"No, I'm fine Harry, really. You've just called at a bad time, I was in the shower when you called." I attempt a small laugh as a means to convince him. He seemed satisfied, obviously too busy at work to pay _that_ much attention to me upon hearing that I am fine.

Good.

"Alright. Listen, I'm just calling to ask if you wanted to come to the Burrow next Saturday. Molly would really like it if you could come; she's having a tough time getting a hold of you so I offered to help. What do you say?"

Bloody hell.

A stubbed toe, shampoo burning my eyes, late for my appointment at the Ministry and now this bombshell. I hardly think that now is the time to be talking about this. I limp back through the hallway to the shower, still on the phone with Harry who is busy barking orders at people in the background.

"Harry, can we please discuss this at another time, maybe when I'm not soaking wet, in pain or really late? I'll pop by later, promise. I need to go, I'll see you later on today."

I hear Harry huff, clearly annoyed that I did not give him a definite answer. But to be honest, I was not sure I wanted to go. I'd most likely see Ron and Lavender. Seeing one was bad enough. And the only time he ever saw me these days was when he wanted something from me. Whether it was help, advice or whatever. It was just like at school; always asking me for help with his homework, then ignoring me afterwards.

Arse hole.

Ever since the war ended, along with our relationship, he's been acting like a pompous prick. Almost like Malfoy.

Shit.

I'm having coffee with Malfoy today too. How could I forget about that? It was probably the weirdest thing in the world. Then again, I have been a bit preoccupied this morning so far.

"...okay, I'll see you later Hermione." Harry interrupts my thoughts, and I almost walk straight into the door to the bathroom.

"What?" I question, having not really listened to what he had been saying previously, before quickly agreeing to see him later to avoid him having a tantrum.

"Okay, see you later Harry." I say before hanging up and tossing my phone in the sink, before charging into the shower proceeding finally rinse all of the shampoo out my think, bushy hair. A couple minutes later, I emerge out of the shower, grab my towel and my phone from the sink that was covered in condensation and jogged into my bedroom to get changed, drying myself on the way there.

Dropping the towel, I open my wardrobe and rummage through it, looking for something decent to wear, remembering that I can wear what I want as I am not yet an employee of the Ministry until Monday. Even though I have more choice, I still can't find anything to wear. I run from my bedroom, through the hallway and into the living room within seconds, and briefly stick my head out of the balcony checking the temperature, being careful to wrap myself up in the curtains so no peeping toms can see me. Upon realizing that it was very warm, considering it _is_ summer, I scoot back to my room. Finding nothing flattering in my small wardrobe and running out of time, I snatch the first thing my hand comes in contact with. I throw on my blue denim shorts, a pair of black ballet flats and a purple vest. I rush to the kitchen, grabbing my wallet and shoving it in my handbag before moving over to the fireplace. Finishing the outfit off with my black blazer hanging limply on the kitchen chair, I grab the black, dirty powder and hastily call for the Ministry.

I'm there within seconds, and with a few minutes to spare. The grand clock above the fountain in the Atrium reads 9:50 am.

Jesus, I got ready quickly.

With ten minutes till my appointment with Evelyn I decide to pay a visit to Harry, knowing that Harry's department is on the way to Evelyn's. As I walk to the elevators, I notice a few people staring at me again.

What is it with people staring at me?

I begin to get unnerved when the elevator pings and I hurry in and close the metal doors.

One floor.

Two floors.

Three floors.

Ping!

The doors open automatically, revealing an emptier than usual floor. I slowly get out, suspicion overcomes me. What did Harry say earlier? It could have been something important? Fuck. I wish I had been listening now.

I cross the small bridge, entering the Auror department run by Harry. As I pass under the arch of the entrance, I hear screaming.

What the fuck?

I all but sprint to the source, when I get stopped abruptly.

"You can't go in there."

I turn my head to the voice. I'm always allowed in; everyone knows that we are best friends. I've never been told _once_ that I cant see him, even if he's in a meeting or extremely busy. I realize that this must be the new girl Harry had spoken of before. I can understand his unhappiness at the situation.

I run my eyes over the young woman, taking in her appearance. She was sitting, relaxed in a bright green swivel chair, that one could guess was hexed to change colour according to her outfit. She was wearing a tight neon green V-neck top that showed far too much cleavage, tucked into a very small and also tight pencil skirt in dark green, topped off with a checkered blazer in every tone of green imaginable.

It was hideous.

I scurry over to the desk that was perched on the left of the tall, metal doors which were hiding the people inside who were screaming.

"Why not?" I demand, irritated at her lack of professionalism.

Elbows on the wooden table, whilst casually filing her nails, seemingly unaffected by the noises coming from the room ahead, she looks up at me.

"Mr. Potter has told us not to let anyone in until ten o'clock and it's..."

She glances at the clock hovering on the wall ahead of her, deliberately taking far too long to finish her sentence.

"...nine fifty five. You're going to have to wait until I can allow you in" she announces with a smug tone in her voice.

"Well, can you tell me why it sounds like people are killing each other in there at least!?" I snap, wanting to make sure that my best friend was alright, knowing that wherever there was a fight, Harry would be the first there.

"It's a confidential matter Miss. Unless you're part of the Ministry I cannot tell you. All I will say is, that I think Mr. Potter is going to get an award soon for being so good at his job."

What?

I knew Harry was good at his job. It came natural to him. It should! I mean, he'd been practically training for it since he was bloody born. My brain began trying to make sense of everything; trying to put the pieces together.

I glance at the clock.

9:56 am.

Wait.

Auror department empty.

Screaming men in a room.

Duelling.

What's the date today?

Wednesday 13th of June.

Shit.

Today is the day the international inspections start. For three days in the summer, wizards from all over the world come over and inspect the facilities of our Ministry in comparison to their own and vice versa. They file reports and send their verdict back to us as a way of each Ministry or government getting feedback and advice on how they are running things.

However, in the Auror department, "inspecting" usually meant duelling for fun to see who the strongest and most powerful wizard was.

Men.

No wonder there was so much screaming going on.

I begin to relax, shoulders falling and exhale loudly.

With a bored expression on her flat face, she announces without even looking at me;

"Look love, I can't let you go in there, so why don't you go back the way you came from and give me a break okay? Maybe go home and fix your hair too. It's not ladylike to come here looking like you've just been having sex... slag" whispering the last part under her breath so I can barely hear; a small smirk playing on her oversized lips.

Oh Jesus.

That's why people we're staring earlier.

I have a bad case of bed hair.

Cow!

I promptly smooth down my hair, trying to flatten the birds nest that had been forming quickly. Giving up, I pull the hair band off my wrist and pull my hair into a messy bun, before turning my attention back to Miss. Bitchy.

"At least I'm able to have sex. I'd be surprised if anyone would have sex with you while wearing those clothes, let alone give you a kiss...I don't even think a _dementor_ would kiss _those_ lips!"

She turns bright beetroot, clearly surprised that I would retaliate back. Even though it was a big, fat lie, I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of having any sort of power over me.

That was until she replied.

"You might be able to have sex...but paying for it isn't very ladylike either."

My mouth opens slightly and my eyes narrow.

What. A. Bitch

Okay.

Either she's _extremely_ stupid; women, most often than not, **charge** money for sex, not pay for it.

Dipshit.

Or...she's really looking for a fight.

I'm hoping for the fight at this point personally.

Either way she's stupid.

I helped defeat Voldemort for fuck sake! I think I can _quite easily_ kick her arse into next week.

No doubt.

I growl, about ready to rip her bloody head off when I hear a familiar voice, followed quickly by a few groans and lots of laughter.

"Hermione? What are you doing here, don't you have work today? Are you okay, is something wrong? I knew something was wrong this morning..."

I turn smiling at him. Harry always _was_ concerned about his friends, in addition to being very protective. Then I turn to the young woman at the desk who trying desperately to listen to our conversation whilst pining over Harry. Someone clearly has a crush. Too bad. I smile smugly at her, before turning back to Harry who was currently shaking hands with a few of the men exiting from the hall they had been duelling in.

Ha!

Take that, bitch.

"I'm fine Harry, just popping in to say hello. Our phone call this morning was rather short so I just wanted to check in with everything" I explain briefly, keeping track of the time.

9:58 am.

Two minutes.

I avert my eyes from the clock and back to Harry who moves closer to me and embraces me in a warm hug. When we break apart he grabs his shirt and wipes his damp forehead. His skin glistening from sweat, I can understand why Ginny loves him. I never thought of Harry as anything more than my best friend or brother, but he was undoubtedly good-looking. Toned muscles were protruding from his moist shirt that he had gained from the beginning of his Auror training and shaggy black hair falling coolly over his eyes, that occasionally earned him a head jerk in attempt to tame his long locks. His green eyes, reminding people so much of his mother Lily, held such sadness and determination in them. Sadness for his parents death; for his godfather; for his friends in the war. For his lost and nonexistent childhood. And his determination to make things better. I admired Harry so much for that. Always wanting to make the world a better place.

I smile.

"What?" he asks while casually running his hands through his hair to remove the majority of sweat from it.

"Nothing. About earlier, what did you say on the phone? I wasn't really listening, sorry..." I apologize, my face screwing up and forming into an unattractive bundle of wrinkles and fat. He removes his hand from his hair and sighs, clearly tired from his earlier exercise.

"I thought we agreed to meet later on today for lunch during our breaks to talk about next Saturday. Obviously that's not going to happen now though since you're here, so we should probably just forget it."

I hated doing this to him. I hated keeping him in the dark. I hated lying to him and making excuses. But no one knows, and I'd like to keep it that way. Feeling guilty, I make up an excuse and say my goodbyes.

"Actually Harry, I need to go! Like you said, I have work. I just thought I'd pop in and say hello."

10:00 am.

Shit.

I'm late.

"What? Okay, so are we still up for lunch then?" I look at him and say a flicker of hopefulness gleaming in his bright green eyes, with a slanted smile on his face. I give him an apologetic smile and he knows that I'm declining. His face falls and the flicker I saw seconds before vanishes into nothing but disappointment, making me feel terrible about myself.

"I'm sorry Harry, I can't today..." I can't believe I was blowing off Harry for Malfoy. My best friend for my arch enemy. If I don't show up he'll probably make my life a living hell though, and I know he can.

10:02 am.

I panic, under pressure to be on time and be a good friend, I negotiate and say the first thing I can think of.

"How about tomorrow instead? I can have lunch tomorrow...if you still want that is."

I wait for his reply.

"I can't tomorrow Hermione, I told you that this morning. Today was the only available lunch period I had off. It's inspection week; I have to keep up appearances and make sure everything's running as best as possible. I have hardly any breaks at all until Friday."

I bite my lip, trying to think of a viable solution to our predicament.

10:05 am.

Evelyn was going to kill me.

"How about dinner? You come round to mine and we can have dinner. Invite Ginny too. The three of us. It will be just like old times. What do you say?" I ask hurriedly, and when he smiles, I know the problem is solved. He envelopes me in a tight hug, and walks past me heading confidently to his next destination. He turns around facing me, still walking backwards, and calls out;

"Friday! Six o'clock! We'll be there! Don't forget!"

I grin back at him, bearing my teeth in the process and giggling quietly to myself at my best friends bluntness.

"When do I ever forget anything Harry! See you Friday Mr. Chosen One!"

He barks out a warm, happy laughter before waving goodbye to me and turning on his heel, walking straight through the archway, and out of sight.

10:15 am.

Fuck!

I leg it back to the elevators and slam my hand into the button marked "floor four." I hold on to the sides of the lift as it jolts into life and speeds through the Ministry making its way to my floor. I hold my sides when I have formed a stitch, and try to catch my breath. A couple seconds later the elevator stops and pings again before announcing what floor we have arrived on. I throw the doors open, and sprint from the elevators to the end of the hallway, ignoring all of the stares I got from people passing by.

I reach Evelyn's office in an exhausted state, reaching for the brass door handle I shove it open and fly in, closing the door noisily behind me. Facing the door, hands still on the door handle, I hesitate about turning around.

Breathing heavily, I slowly twirl on the balls of my feet to where Evelyn would sit, mentally preparing myself for a scolding on tardiness. Only to be met by silence.

She's not there.

Where could she be? My appointment started at ten, it's not like her to be late. She's always early in fact. I glance to her desk at the clock that has been magically placed there, showing the hands of the clock and the numbers etched within the cream, wooden table in a big black font.

10:20 am.

Twenty minutes late? That's so unlike her. I start to panic slightly. Has something happened to her? Where could she be? Is she okay? I pace the length of the room taking long and slow strides at first, in attempt to calm myself down from most likely nothing. However, the more thinking I was doing, the quicker I paced the room, becoming more anxious and stressed about Evelyn's whereabouts. I knew I was overreacting but I couldn't help it. Panicking at her unusualness, I walk over to the door to go and ask somebody of her location, when Evelyn appears at the door with papers galore, looking exhausted and frightened by seeing me.

"Hermione! What on earth are you doing here? You scared me senseless!" she exclaims, clutching her heart in fear. She makes her way gradually round me towards her desk, dragging her feet as she does so. She disposes of the contents in her arms onto the table with a loud thud and throws both arms up in the air above her head, stretching. She wore more sophisticated clothing than usual today. Understandably, due to the inspections.

Her usual long, brown hair was placed neatly in a bun at the top of her head, flattering her oval face. Always dressing in blocks of colour, today was no exception. However, there were a few differences. Her standard knee length skirt and typical white vest was nowhere in sight. Instead, a short and tight, thigh high white skirt took its place along with a black vest, topped off with a white, short sleeved blazer that fitted her narrow waist perfectly. Her black, six inch stilettos were no match for her common kitten heels, drawing even more attention to her already tall physique. Her usual pink lips had been darkened drastically by dark red lipstick, drawing out the paleness of her skin. Matching nails that were painted according to the colour of her lipstick and a few items of jewellery as an accessory. The only aspect of Evelyn which I noticed remained the same was her turquoise coloured eyes, still full of kindness and love.

She was gorgeous.

Damn, I'm ugly next to her.

"Wow..." is all I can say. She looks over at me and produces a small smile of gratitude.

"Ev...you look fucking amazing!" I declare bluntly, causing her to give me a look that meant she disagreed with my statement. Pursing her lips she replies;

"Thanks I guess. It's only you who seems to think so though..."

I frown. That is completely untrue. I have seen the way some of her work colleagues look at her; like bait. And as much as I find it disturbing seeing the looks of lust on their faces, I know that they would like nothing more than to just **be** with her. In more than one way if you know what I mean. I would think that someone as beautiful as Evelyn would be constantly chatted up, but apparently that's not the case. I know she's shy, and I think that's why she doesn't realize how people look at her. With either envy or lust.

"Ev, people **do** look at you like that. You just don't see it because you're not looking for it...plus you're far too busy paying attention to freaks like me." I say trying to get a smile out of her. It works, luckily.

She laughs quietly before gently tucking a few stray strands of hair from her face behind her ears. It was such a delicate movement that I wasn't sure it happened. She was always so graceful. I couldn't be that graceful if it was a matter of life or death. I'd probably end up falling flat on my face and killing myself knowing my luck.

"I get on well with freaks it seems" she laughs again, this time an octave louder.

"...anyway what are you doing here Hermione?"

"I'm here for my session. Like usual." I reply, confused at her forgetfulness. I have a session every Wednesday. She looks at me blankly before her face changes completely into a look of realization. He big eyes expand amazingly and she holds her hands up in front of her, bearing her palms to me.

"Oh I'm so stupid! I completely forgot. You don't have a session today because of the inspections going on. No one does, that's why I was so surprised to see you here today. It's primarily Ministry business, I'm surprised you were allowed in by security. I thought I told you, but obviously not. I'm so sorry Hermione."

My eyebrows shoot up into my forehead.

"So I woke up, had a spazz attack when realizing the time thinking I was really late, stubbed my toe in the shower, got shampoo in my eye causing almost blindness and raced in here today for no reason. I could have had a lie in!" I groan. I fidget around the room, upset about how my day has gone so far.

"It sounds like an eventful day to me Hermione."

I stare at her, blinking twice with an expression on my face that resembles "what the fuck?" I shrug it off. Nothing about this day is normal. I remember yesterday; that was pretty weird too, aside from me getting my dream job of course.

"Yesterday was better." I say, trying to get her to play along.

"Yeah? What happened yesterday? I assume it was still slightly "eventful" considering your use of the word "better", implying that it was similar."

I love her so much sometimes. We both think alike. I was hoping she picked up on that. I begin to tell her everything that happened yesterday; from leaving her office, to speaking to Kingsley and getting my job, to meeting Malfoy. Once I had finished my little rant, I breathed a sigh of relief for finally having gotten all of that off my chest.

"What?! That's insane. I think yesterday for you was way better! What are you on about? You got your _dream job_ and got hit on by a gorgeous man to top it all off. And you got asked out on a date by him too. What's wrong with that?" she questions, sitting in her leather chair and crossing her long legs.

"Malfoy is what's wrong with that." I reply monotonously. I still didn't know why I had agreed to meet up with him today. At the time I felt obligated to, and I won't deny, his looks did help with the persuasion. But that was it. Looks? Prefer someone that has an ounce of kindness in them, that's definitely not Malfoy.

I had a moment of weakness, and I was going to make _damn_ sure that it wouldn't happen again.

" Fine" she replied, getting up out of her chair and crossing the room. Opening the metal cabinets she began pulling out even more files and clutching them in her nimble hands before closing it and turning back to face me.

"He might be an arrogant arse at times, but you've got to admit. He's bloody gorgeous. And to be fair, even girls who hate him would still jump at the opportunity that you've got. Why not? It's just coffee, not marriage. Just be you. If he doesn't like that or just wants you for your body; fuck him. Simple."

She was right.

Crude maybe, but right either way.

It was just a coffee, nothing more. I didn't even know why he had asked me in the first place though. Out of all the girls he could get, why the hell would he ask me, his enemy since we were eleven and a muggle-born nonetheless. I was everything he was supposed to hate. He did hate. I didn't know what he wanted, but I was sure going to figure out what it was.

"You're right Ev. It's only coffee. And anyway...in the words of someone wise, "If he only wants your breasts, legs and thighs, send him to KFC!"" we laugh. I sneak a glance at the time and I give her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before making my way out of her office and down to the Atrium.

10:55 am.

Five minutes, I think.

Right.

Well...

Here goes nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hope this is okay :) Sorry for the delayed update. **

**Hope you enjoy**

**Steph**

**X**

* * *

Hermione sat in the Atrium and well, waited.

11:15 am

She had been sitting in this exact place for twenty minutes, and was currently fuming at being kept waiting.

Why is everyone so late today?

I was in no mood to meet Malfoy at this point, let alone wait for him to magically appear. And late nonetheless! Very un-Malfoy like.

As many thoughts had crossed my mind, most of them about me killing Malfoy, I considered the idea that this meeting was all just a ruse just to make me look stupid. A large scale attempt to embarrass me. It wouldn't be the first time he's made me look stupid.

Fed up, I get up off the corner of the fountain where I had been sitting patiently and begin to walk off in the other direction, silently cursing Malfoy.

Looking down at my feet and muttering profanities, I bump into someone who literally knocks me off my feet. Anticipating the loud thud of my body hitting the marble ground, I close my eyes waiting for the pain to come. To my surprise I doesn't. Instead, a pair of large, muscular hands grip my arm and waist, ensuring my balance.

"Christ Ganger, try to be more careful! I've been searching this place for you for about five minutes, but you're so small I couldn't see you. You might want to consider growing a few inches."

Malfoy places me back on my feet, steadying me as dizziness took over my eyes, blurring my vision. Upon hearing his voice, I explode into utter madness.

"Five minutes? FIVE MINUTES? I've been sitting here for TWENTY waiting like a complete arsehole for you for no bloody reason! So do not _dare _make out like I have cost you five minutes of your _precious _time, when you clearly have no respect for anyone apart from yourself, you selfish git! And as for my height, I happen to like my size, thank you very much!"

That was a lie. I hated my height. I constantly wished that I was a good couple inches taller than my short five foot five frame. Breathing heavily, I put my hands on my hips waiting for a response.

Nothing.

Nothing was said, although apparently due to my outburst and heavy breathing; it was my heaving breasts that caught Malfoy's attention. I groan in frustration and remove my hands from my waist to fold them over my upper body feeling uncomfortable. At this movement, Malfoy returned his gaze to my face, smirk fixed in place.

"I had no idea you missed me that much Granger. If I'd have known you were the clingy type I never would have asked you. I don't want a stalker. And for your information, due to the chaos of the inspections going on today, my meeting with the Minister ran over time. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

Oh.

Still would have been nice to have known in advance so I didn't look like a twat. I tell him this in all seriousness. As a response, he releases a laugh loud enough to burst an eardrum. It is a thick laugh, displaying how deep his voice is whilst still holding a small amount of childishness and nativity in it.

"Granger, I don't think there is a time or place where you _don't_ look like a twat. That's what makes you _you_."

He wipes his eyes where tears were forming from laughing too hard. I glare at him for a couple minutes until he finally stops. Clutching onto his sides before straightening his jacket, he looks back at me with a small smile, seemingly embarrassed at his outburst. I continue to stare blankly at him until he breaks the silence.

"Well...shall we?" he clears his throat awkwardly and motions his hand in front of him, letting me pass. I walk towards the cafeteria when I feel his hand on my shoulder steering me away in another direction.

"You didn't think we would be having coffee here did you? They have the most disgusting coffee here on the planet. No, we're going somewhere else. Follow me." he orders in an dominant tone, walking slightly ahead of me expecting me to follow. I sneer at the back of his head as I walk slowly after him, regretting my decision to accept his proposal. I lose sight of him for a moment, until I catch a glimpse of platinum blonde hair in the crowd waiting by the visitors exit. Confused, I walk over to him, meandering through the busy crowd of fellow witches and wizards.

I took this time to observe him fully. As usual, he never failed to impress with his pristine sense of style. He wore a dark wine coloured suit jacket and black shirt and tie that made his already pale white skin, almost glow. By the time I reach him he is tapping his foot impatiently, clenching his strong jaw tightly. Not wanting to argue already and regret my decision even more, I decide to break the ice.

"Why are we using the visitors exit Malfoy? The Floo network is much easier." I ask politely. Thankfully, Malfoy's jaw relaxes and his shoulders sag slightly making it apparent that my tactic had worked. He jerks his head; motioning me inside the red telephone box at the far end of the corridor.

"It's closer to where we are going, and besides...I don't get hassled when I come this way."

I open my mouth to question what he means, but he already has the shabby phone in his hands, rapidly dialling the numbers.

6-2-4-4-2.

Before I know it, the phone box is elevated into the air and seconds later, we appear in a small graffiti filled alleyway. Malfoy holds the door open for me; a gentlemanly quality he has no doubt been taught by his family.

I hesitate before getting out.

I step slowly out of the phone box, looking around at the dirty surroundings I found myself in.

Gross.

I hear a small click and whip my head around to the sound, ready for an attacker as my battle instincts kick in once again. Wand out and ready, Malfoy chuckles at my movement.

"It's just me. Closing a door. Nothing to kill me over. Promise" sauntering over to me before whispering;

"You might want to put your wand away though, we don't want people thinking you've lost your marbles."

I shiver internally. He shouldn't be allowed to be that close. I quickly stow my wand away in my bag and turn to where he was standing.

"Where the hell are we exactly?" I ask brusquely, not caring if I hurt his feelings.

"Kensington. Rainville Road to be exact. Post code, W69H..."

"Alright alright, Christ. A simple Kensington would have sufficed." I cut him off before he could explain any more. Walking away from the phone box, we are immediately bombarded with people.

"Come on Granger." He says casually and begins making his way across the busy road to the pavement on the opposite side. I chase after him, rolling my eyes.

"So where is this place you're taking me then? I think I have a right to know" I exclaim, walking briskly next to him in attempt to keep up with his long strides. He looks down at me from his six foot height, and snorts.

"You don't trust me at all do you?" he enquires, though not seeming to care what the answer would be. I burrow my eyebrows, and huff at his stubborn refusal to tell me.

"No, I don't to be honest. And why the hell would I? You've done nothing but torment me for years on end. Forgive me for wanting to know where I'm going" I snap, pissed off at his attitude.

Yes.

Definitely a mistake coming here Hermione.

Well done.

He doesn't reply for a few minutes, leaving us in awkward silence until he gradually comes to a stop. Pointing ahead of him, he finally responds;

"The river café."

I look in the direction he is pointing at and I become speechless. It's looks amazing. A long, arched bridge made of stone is leading the way to the café. Crossing the traditional stone bridge, we come to the cafe itself. The cream, brick building stood tall and wide with a banner standing high above bearing the name "Thames Wharf" in big, bold white writing. Outside, the café had placed numerous tables and chairs, making the most of the sunny summer weather. Almost garden like, the tree's curling round each table provided shade and coolness for guests whilst the flowerbeds on each side of the cobbled path enchanted each guest with their exotic smells and beauty.

It was magical.

With the crunching sound of stone at our feet, we make our way slowly to the entrance of the café, taking in the sight of everything. I glance up at Draco who is looking down at me with an amused expression on his face.

"I take it you like it then?" he asks gallantly. I roll my eyes; he's always showing off.

"Why so shy Granger?" he asks, trying to get a rise out of me.

"I'm not shy. I'm just holding back my awesomeness so I don't intimidate you." I reply casually. He laughs loudly before continuing on our way to the entrance.

We reach the steps to the entrance when we're greeted by a stunning woman. In her early twenties, she was perfection. She knew it too. Shoulder length blonde hair; piercing blue that were eyes caked with black eyeliner making them stand out even more; pale skin that shimmered in the sunlight; with a light blue uniform that I could only assume to be the best silk which left very little to the imagination.

She was like a female version of Malfoy.

Good god.

I sneakily stole a peek at him whilst she flipped her hair over her narrow shoulders and smiling broadly, expecting him to be drooling all over her. To my surprise his face was blank, clearly unimpressed at her attempts of seducing him.

"Reservation for two. Under the name Malfoy" he said sounding bored, looking at his long, elegant hangs instead of her. Her attempts of seduction did not waver. Continuously playing with her hair, twirling it between her perfectly manicured fingers, she eyed him up and down, taking all of him in.

Someone was desperate.

"Of course. In or outside?" she asks, batting her eyelashes at him. He turns to me for the first time since arriving. Looking down he asks;

"Well, you hear the lady; in or out?"

Surprised at his offer, and not wanting to pass it up, I look at the hostess and reply with confidence.

"Out. Please."

Malfoy produces a small smile, earning me a death glare from our hostess in return. Is there anyone who _doesn't_ hate me today? And as usual, it's all Malfoy's fault. If they spent ten minutes with him though, they'd find out that he's a pompous arse; something that looks won't _ever _change. Then they'd be applauding me for what I'm going through.

If only.

Menu's are shoved in my small hands forcefully by the She-Malfoy, shaking me out of my thoughts. I move the menus to my chest and hold them with folded arms, rubbing my hands together trying to numb the pain. The hostess, uncaringly, motions for us to follow her. Unwillingly, I obey and walk after her and Malfoy. I tap Malfoy on the shoulder trying to get his attention. He turns his head and slows his pace.

"We can sit inside if you want, it's just such a nice day. I didn't want to let it go to waste." I say looking up at the clear, blue sky above.

He shakes his head in response, obviously satisfied with my choice of seating. Following the woman, we are led to a far away corner of the garden that is quiet enough to have a decent conversation. Decorated with flowerbeds and bushes around us and an old oak tree dangling it's branches over our heads as a source of shade; it was lovely. As soon as we reach our assigned table the hostess waves us off, annoyed at Draco's lack of interest in her. I stare after her before turning back to Malfoy and saying;

"Bitch."

He laughs a genuine laugh, pulling my chair out for me; another gentlemanly manner he's acquired over the years.

"I know. She's always doing that. Won't take a bloody hint. Stupid cow" he agrees sitting down opposite me, smile still in place.

"Always? You must bring lots of women here then..." I say stupidly. Of course he does. He's Draco Malfoy; Slytherin sex god of Hogwarts. Why wouldn't he?

He interrupts me.

"Now... I never said women. This is where I usually have business lunches or with the company. It's an Italian restaurant so naturally it makes the best coffee in town, as well as the best food. This is a restaurant that amply deserves its booked-out longevity. Not only does it serve some of the capital's most consistently ravishing food but it has spawned a generation of influential chefs too, most of whom have catered at my family's annual Christmas ball at the manor" he boasts.

"You, Granger, are actually the first non-business individual I have brought here. You should consider yourself lucky."

"Oh, I am don't worry. There's nothing in the world I want more than to come for a coffee with you here..." replying to his pigheadedness with as much sarcasm I can muster. I place the menu's in the centre of the table and take off my jacket, placing it on the back of my chair.

Picking up a menu, I take my time to look over the dishes being served. I look up over the menu, finding Draco looking expectantly back at me.

"What?"

He smirks, running his hands through his soft hair and crossing his legs.

"Nothing."

Well...that was informative, if not slightly creepy. I resume looking at the menu. After reviewing the dishes, I decide upon the "Salmone al sale" - wild Scottish salmon stuffed with fennel herb, baked whole in salt with roasted  
cherry tomatoes, spinach and aioli at room temperature. My eyes scan across to the other side of the page, when my eyes practically jump out of my head.

Sixty three pounds!

No way was I going to pay that for some salmon and herbs shoved on a plate and presented nicely - that is a complete rip off.

I slam the menu shut quickly and place it back down in the middle of the table, crossing my arms. I feel Malfoy's gaze on me again and I can't help but look back.

He's properly grinning now, showing the beginning of stubble protruding from his chin.

"Seen the price huh?"

My mouth falls over. What an arse hole. So this was his plan. Deliberately taking me for coffee to the most expensive place known to man, as a means to make me look poor and stupid.

Well congratulations.

I reach behind me for my jacket, furious at him and myself for falling for it when the hostess comes back again, with an irritated expression on her face.

You and me both girl.

"Are you two ready to order yet?" she asks monotonous, obviously wanting to leave our table as soon as possible, much like myself.

"Actually, I'm leav-"

"Yes thank you; I will have the Aquapazza - whole red mullet and scallops cooked in "crazy water" with tomato, chilli & marjoram with Italian spinach and crostini, and my friend here will have the Salmone al sale."

My jacket halfway on, I pause looking at him with a mixture of frustration and confusion. Why did he want me here? And how did he know what I wanted?

"Anything to drink sir?" she replies looking back at him and paying no attention to me, after jotting down our choice of dishes onto her small notepad.

"One Cuban Espresso and an iced coffee" he states without asking for my preference. I state at him, mouth wide open yet again.

This is becoming a bad habit.

As she saunters of back to her station to relay our orders to the kitchen, I glare at him angrily.

"Why do you insist on humiliating me?!" I rage, knowing that I would not be able to afford the amount due for my ordered food. He leans back into his chair and folds his arms into his chest, sighing as he does so.

"I'm not trying to humiliate you Granger. I knew you wouldn't be happy when you saw the prices here, so I ordered for you. Simple."

I place my hands flat on the table and lean over so I am closer to him.

"It is not _simple_! I cannot afford, nor do I want to pay for the food you just ordered for me. And how did you know what I wanted anyway?!" I hiss back at him, completely bewildered at his lack of understanding. He too leans over the table, gracefully removing his hands from his chest and placing them on the table next to mine. Lowering his face to mine he explains;

"It is that simple actually. I. Am. Paying. For. You... See, simple. Also, I think I know by now what you like to eat and drink. We've been practically living together since the age of eleven. You didn't think I noticed when you would pour yourself a coffee at lunch before casting Glacius on it to make it cold? Not to mention whenever you went out with Potter and Weasley to the Three Broomsticks and sat in the far corner by the stairs so you were alone and undisturbed. You would almost always order some sort of fish, and since the salmon is the only fish on the menu today it was rather expected."

He finishes his explanation with a smug look and moves back to his previous position, clearly happy with his answer.

I glare at him.

I'm stabbing you with in mind...

"What? So you were stalking me during our time at Hogwarts then were you?" I question carelessly. It certainly seems like it.

"No Granger, I had more important things on my mind than stalking you." He replies coldly. I flinch, unhappy at the way the day has turned out but unable to stop myself.

"Well, if I'm so unimportant, why the hell am I here?! Why did you invite me in the first place Malfoy?" I argue, trying to uncover the reason for his actions on Tuesday.

"God Granger, can't you just leave it!?" he snaps back, beginning to get angry at me.

"No Malfoy, I don't think I can! I think I have a right to know what your intentions are" I declare courageously, knowing this argument would blow up and out of proportion soon, just like it always did with us. I notice his jaw tightening. He clenches his fists that are lying on the table, shaking slightly with anger.

I take a sharp breath uncertain of what will happen next.

Bracing myself and expecting him to lash out at me like usual, I was more than surprised when he closed his eyes and removed his hands from the table, placing them in his lap before opening his eyes and releasing a long breath I didn't know he was holding. I blink rapidly, unsure if this was happening or not.

"I have no intentions of doing anything to you Granger. I just wanted to see a familiar face that doesn't want to kill me on sight and someone who I can have a decent conversation with. That just so happens to be you. Simple."

He says all of this in such a quiet voice that I can only just make out what he said.

"But you know _everyone_ Malfoy. I'm sure there are other people who you would much rather spend time with than me; goody-two-shoes Granger." I respond baffled by his confession. He looks at me with sad eyes that pierce mine.

"That's the thing. I really don't. I have Blaise, but he's always busy. Same as Pansy. But Pansy's, well...you know Pansy. She's not the brightest" he chuckles to himself and I can't help but agree with a small nod.

"And then there's you. Always top of the class with useless information, friends galore and you were happy. I just thought that maybe since the war's over and we've finished Hogwarts, we could try to start over and maybe meet up like this a bit more...if you want." He stutters, embarrassed at himself for asking such a personal question.

If only he knew.

I wasn't happy then. I was never truly happy at Hogwarts; I haven't been since my mother's death. Obviously there had been moments of content and joy, but it was never pure happiness. I haven't felt that in years. But I wasn't going to tell him that.

"So, you want us to be friends?..." I ask, unsure if that was what he was getting at or not. He nodded his head sharply.

Okay.

"Okay" I decide. He looks up at me from his hands in his lap and cracks a small, lopsided smile.

"but you have to stop acting like an arrogant arse all the time or we are going to have a problem" I negotiate, being completely serious, but earning a laugh in return from him.

"I'll try my best, but I wouldn't be me if I stopped completely ... you know that Granger."

I did. That was the problem. I shake my head, giving up the idea of him being more of a normal human being.

We start talking, about random things. As much as I hate to admit it, he was good company. Engaging in real conversation where he understood what I was talking about and could respond in an equally demanding way; challenging each other. It was a nice change to Harry and Ginny's confusion and uncertainty. Topics of school, the Ministry, Malfoy Industries and my job were talked about to no end, inflicting new thoughts and information each time. Then we stumbled onto the topic of relationships.

Great.

"What about Weasley then? You still with that prat?" he asks, while cutting up his scallops neatly and popping it in his mouth waiting for an answer.

I sip on my iced coffee, trying to prolong this particular conversation for as long as possible, not really wanting to discuss Ron.

"No, not anymore" I say simply, pulling the straw out of my mouth and placing the glass coffee cup back on the table gently.

"Why not?" he enquires, pressing for more information that I was not wanting to give.

"No reason..."

"Well there's obviously a reason Granger" he presses, taking a gulp of his scorching espresso before wiping his mouth on the napkin politely.

"I don't want to talk about it Malfoy. We're not together anymore because, like you said, he's a prat."

He stops cutting up another scallop and places his cutlery down on the plate before looking intently at me, concern etched on his face - something I'd never seen before.

I gulp.

I haven't told anyone. No even Harry about what happened with Ron and I. He begged me not to, and stupidly I agreed. Why I did, I'll never know. I suppose I didn't want to throw away years of friendship over one night, even though it meant our romantic relationship ending. For some reason I felt compelled to tell Malfoy. I knew it was risky, and I probably would regret it later, but I needed to tell someone. Someone who wouldn't let it loose to Harry or anyone. I came close to telling Evelyn once, but being insistent on gossip, I decided against it, and as much as I don't want to admit it; Malfoy is good at keeping secrets. Everyone knew it. I look down at my plate, dropping the cutlery on the table, eyes brimming with small tears.

"Ron cheated on me" I murmur quietly.

Malfoy just sits there looking at me with an expression on his face; sympathy perhaps?

"You don't have to tell me Granger. It's alright" he consoles, not wanting me to become overly upset in public.

"No. I need to."

I look at him for the first time in minutes, lip quivering slightly. I will not cry. It was ages ago, and I don't love him anymore. It shouldn't affect me. Not now.

"It was with Lavender, of all people."

He grimaces and makes a disgusted face upon hearing that fact. I smile slightly, happy at the knowledge that he too thoroughly dislikes her.

"I would have thought that even Weasley had standards. Guess not. But I thought you two were friends?" he asks, confused.

I raise an eyebrow.

"She thinks we're friends but trust me... I would not hesitate to punch her in the face" I state bluntly.

Malfoy laughs evenly, earning me to smile back at him. It was easy to talk to him surprisingly enough.

Who would have thought?

"Do you mind me asking what happened?"

My smile falters slightly, before relaying the incident to him in a brief summary.

"It was just after the war when we got together; I'd loved him for years. We were together for about six months when I caught him in bed with her in _our_ bed. I moved out straight away, with nowhere to go. My dad ended up helping me get a flat, paying the rent until I got a job. Ron saw me a couple days later, apologising saying he was sorry, but I didn't care. He did it and he couldn't take it back. When he realized I wasn't going to take him back he begged me not to say anything to anyone. He was crying and begging on the floor; what was I going to do? Harry would have killed him. God knows what his mother would have done if she found out!"

I pause, looking shyly at him.

"You're the first person I've told."

Surprise flashes across his face, before a small smile takes its place.

"I'm glad you told me. It's nice to know someone trusts me" he smiles.

I change the subject, trying to lighten up the mood.

"What about you? Still shagging anything that moves?" I ask with a smirk on my face. His jaw drops, astonished that I would say something like that; not to mention say that with **his** trademark smirk on my face.

"No. I've limited my shagging. It's only women now." He jokes, causing me to release a few small giggles, before continuing.

"I was never that bad you know. I mean, I'm not going to deny, I had my fair share of women but most of the rumours - that's exactly what they were. Rumours." He finishes taking a final bit of his meal. I consider this piece of information.

"Any Gryffindor's?" I ask, questioningly.

He slowly finishes his coffee before answering my question, and somehow I already know the answer.

"A couple."

My brain is disproving; beginning to distance myself from him again.

"Who?" demand I forcefully. I cross my arms over my chest indicating that want an expectant response. He just looks at me simply as the hostess returns to collect our now empty and finished dishes. She stares at him the entire time before giving up and stomping off, muttering about how she will return with the cheque. His eyes never once left mine.

"Patricia Stimpson, Romilda Vane, Alicia Spinnet, Natalie MacDonald, Sally-Anne Perks, and Alice Tolipan." He finishes smartly, fiddling with his fingers.

That was definitely not a _couple_.

I was furious. Not because of the amount of women he'd slept with; but that fact that they were Gryffindor; the house he supposedly hated. Not to mention, Alicia Spinnet was half-blood and Alice Tolipan was a muggleborn like myself! I was enraged because he felt no problem at spending time with them and enjoyed having them throw themselves at him; but decided I was I was less worthy than all of them combined and that he wouldn't even be decent and civil to me. That was what made me livid.

Without saying a word I stand up, pushing my chair back in the process, scraping the cobbled stone ground and I began to march off briskly, wanting nothing more than to get away from him. Leaving Malfoy still sitting, unsure of what was going on; I didn't look back to see him slam some British pounds on the table before shoving his chair back and coming after me. Pissed off at his arrogance and disgusted by what I'd just heard, I make my way over the stone bridge in effort to get home and away from him.

He didn't care if he hurt anyone.

Well he hurt me for all those years whilst shagging girls _just l_ike me.

"Granger...Granger!" he calls, trying to catch up with me. I keep on walking, determined not to listen or talk to him again. I quicken my pace so I'm practically jogging.

"HERMIONE!"

I freeze. Astonishment becomes fury and I explode.

"NO! You don't get to call me by my name! Ever! Not after all you've put me though!" I whip round screeching at him in a threatening voice. Finally in front of me, panicking but grateful it got my attention, he stills.

I continue walking.

"What have I done? I thought we were having a nice time?" I asks, completely oblivious to how he had made me feel when we were at the table. I release a ghastly laugh.

"Why are you so heartless? Could you not see how that affected me?! How saying and doing all of that stuff would directly insult and hurt me!"

"What are you talking about?" raising his voice, exasperated at my so-called gibberish.

"Are you referring to the girls I slept with at Hogwarts? Granger that was years ago! And why do you give a shit about that?"

I groan loudly in frustration. We were by the telephone box now. I stop in front of it, spinning clumsily around to face him again.

"NO, you imbecile! I don't care if you slept with the whole of Hogwarts, Malfoy! I don't give a shit about it, in fact - let me count how many fucks I give...one...one and a half...oh shit! They flew away" I say maliciously, and he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"But I do take issue, at your campaign to make me feel terrible about myself" lowering my voice in menace so as to make my point. I recline my neck back and resume my usual posture, trying to make myself less tense than I already am.

"I'm not trying to make you feel terrible about yourself Granger. For fucks sake, I just spent £220 on lunch for us both! If I wanted to I would be doing that right now, but instead I'm trying to figure out what your damn problem is." He says slowly, whilst still noticeably irritated at my sudden outburst while we were having such a nice lunch.

"You might not be trying to make me feel awful about myself, but you do. Alicia Spinnet? Alice Tolipan? They're not pure-blooded. They're halfblooded and muggleborn girls. How do you think that makes me feel. When you clearly have no problem with Gryffindor girls and muggleborns, but you do me...Am I that disgusting that you decided to pick on _just_ me? Do you hate me that much? What have I ever done to you Malfoy?"

He opens his mouth, but makes no sound clearly unsure at what to say in response. Struggling to form words, he looks at me in guilt from only just realizing his mistake. He closes his mouth, not saying anything. I sigh in disappointment.

I turn to the Ministry's aged, red phone box to go home when he calls out to me once again.

"I don't see wh-"

I finally snaps.

"Go away, Draco!" I say in a harsh voice. He stands stock still for a few seconds. Then, he walks cautiously over to me, with such a slow pace it didn't seem like he was moving at all. Once he reaches me, he's so close to my face that I can almost feel his breath. Shaking, I try to take a step back, only to be stopped by the phone box blocking my path noticing that I'd backed up against it.

He reaches out his hand to my face, taking his sweet time doing so. He tentatively reaches up to my cheek, pushing aside a stray bit of hair; tucking it behind my ear and lingering far too long in the process. Then all of a sudden, he seizes his hand back as if burned and takes a few steps back, away from me. Thinking about what he had just done, and obviously disapproving of it, he turns around and walks quickly away with not even a goodbye; leaving me standing there all alone and in bewilderment.

What the fuck just happened?

You know what...I don't want to know. He's been bloody irritating and impossible all day. There's no way I'm going to bother myself with him any longer.

Friends my arse.

I climb into the phone box dialling the same numbers, holding the phone above my head waiting for the box to move. A few seconds later, I appear back in the Ministry where my day had begun to take a turn for the worst. Slumping over to the fireplaces on the far corner, I shout my address into thin air before materializing at my flat. I walk slowly over through the hallway, passing Crookshanks sitting on the arm of the sofa and giving him a stroke, before opening my bedroom door and collapsing on my bed.

What had happened today?

Exhausted at today's events, I close my eyes and try to relax. Too much is going through my mind. Malfoy, Harry, the Ministry, work, and loads of other really insignificant things on top of all of that.

Harry.

I groan. I said I would have dinner with Harry and Ginny on Friday. That gives me only tomorrow to go out and buy ingredients. This was going to be difficult, considering I am to be working all of tomorrow and Friday.

Even though it was only one o'clock in the afternoon with the sun still blazing in through the windows, I turn over onto my side, facing away from the door and close my eyes.

And within a few minutes I'm asleep, leaving all of the disastrous events of today behind me and praying that tomorrow will be better.

As if.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**Hiya, Sorry for not updating in a while. I've been busy with essays for uni and Christmas and new year with family and friends. But to make it up to you, I've made this chapter EXTRA long :)**

**Hope you enjoy it, remember to leave your reviews :)**

**Steph**

**X**

* * *

I hate my job.

Really...

It fucking sucks.

I'm stressed as it is, I don't need this crap on top of my never-ending pile of shit that is my life.

To be honest, I don't even know why I'm here today. My manager says I look too intimidating to serve customers. What he means is that I look like I am about to hex and maybe kill the next person that talks to me. And, as a result, my delightful face has earned me a ticket straight to the backroom.

Storing books.

Just. Super.

I don't think I have ever wanted to get away from a book in this moment, than in my entire life.

Well aren't I having many firsts this week.

Just what I wanted...Super.

I keep thinking about my conversation with Malfoy yesterday. It keeps replaying in my mind.

Us actually having a really nice time. Talking about everything. Hearing how many muggleborns he slept with. Walking away, him calling after me. Screaming at him for being an arsehole. Him leaving.

Me ruining it.

It was not how I had hoped the day would be.

Honest.

Deep down, I was rather looking forward to it. Because Evelyn was right. Any girl and even some men would have given up a left leg to just have a date with Draco Malfoy. And I didn't .

I was selfish and rude and over the top.

I woke up this morning remembering it all, and felt disgusted with myself and my behaviour. I really don't know what came over me. It just did. I had no control. Words just came out of my mouth without me realizing it. And before I knew it, it was too late.

I stop.

Putting my head in my hands, I sink down onto the floor.

I've ruined everything.

I move my hands away from my face after a couple of minutes, moving them to cup my neck. As I stare straight forward, I think about how else I could have handled the situation I found myself in yesterday.

The small, dark room was just big enough for one person. Surrounding me was an array of clustered and messy books that were laying askew on the moss, green coloured carpet. The chestnut wallpaper was stained and peeling off. I rub the paper. Often I would come in here on my break of when I needed to think and just sit, rubbing my index finger along the wallpaper, tracing the edge of the peeling, until it would fall apart in my hands. It helped me. This room is my favourite room out of the whole shop. It was comforting to me; a place of escape. I reminded me of home. The peacefulness of it all. I liked the quiet. The isolation. I needed to be alone for a couple of minutes just to gather my thoughts. But today, it was providing anything but comfort. It was reminding me of the Hogwarts houses, Gryffindor and Slytherin on the walls and carpet. Everywhere I looked, there he was. There was no escape. And it was killing me.

Silently, the minutes creep past.

1 minute.

5 minutes.

10 minutes.

Still no answer.

I huff.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

"HERMIONE! What do you think you are doing? Get up at once!"

I jump and spin my head round upon hearing this voice. I inwardly groan.

Great.

"What does it look like I'm doing Will? I'm sitting down with some books...it's not like I'm committing a crime. Lord knows what you'd do then." I retort, exasperated.

He looks furious, but I honestly couldn't care today. I keep a straight face as he begins his usual argument.

"Hermione, I expected more of you! You're an amazing employee with such a broad understanding of literature. But you keep disappointing me, you're in here slacking off everyday..."

"You sent me in here you lunatic! You thought I would kill off all of your customers! That's your own fault!" I argue back, not bothering to mask my disbelief.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, I am your superior! Your manager. And maybe if you didn't come in looking like you wanted to kill everyone, we wouldn't have this problem! Now, get back to work. I want all of these boxes emptied and shelved, alphabetically and via genres on the shelves before 5 pm please."

I look round at the twenty something boxes, each full of roughly fifty to one hundred books each. There's no way I would be able to stack all of them by 5pm without magic. I look back at him. In this moment he reminds me of my old potions professor.

Snape.

And then he did something that make the whole world stand still.

He smirked.

I freeze and my eyes become slits. I know another person who smirks. And I don't like it.

Malfoy's is much better, I think to myself inwardly.

In this moment, this furious moment, I channel some of Mr. Draco Malfoy's constant attitude.

I smirk.

His smile fades and I can see he is becoming nervous.

Then I start to speak.

"You know what Will? I hate you."

His mouth drops open in surprise.

"I've met people like you before. Arrogant, lazy, selfish, and just a downright bastard. But the thing is, the people I knew that were like that, aren't that same person anymore. So right now, you're number one on my shitlist. And you **really **don't want to be there. So I suggest you take your pathetic bookshop, and all of these books, and shove them up your egotistical arse!" I snap.

Suddenly, I feel a lot better. My shoulders sag and relax into their normal position, and the tension in my body disappears. I walk into the lobby of the shop to retrieve my coat and bag, leaving a very startled and petrified looking William behind me. As I'm putting my handbag over my shoulder and making my way out of the shop, I hear a patter of clumsy feet on the wooden steps from the storeroom. I turn round and before he can say anything and stare at him full on. He halts in his tracks and remains silent. By this time I have attracted a few onlookers.

Good, I think.

At least he has customers now, he should bloody thank me!

I turn, making my way out of the shop before calling out over my shoulder,

"Oh, and if you didn't get it Will...I **fucking** quit!"

I turn the brass handle of the door and step out of the shop, leaving the jingle of the doorbell behind me.

I smile.

Finally, I think.

I take out my mobile and dial Harry's number. No answer.

Not surprised, I place my phone back inside my pocket and begin to walk away from my old job. As I reach the other side of the road, I turn round and take one final look at the place I had just thrown away.

I smile sadly. I was going to miss it funnily enough. Not the people, or the employees, or even the books. No, there are enough of those in the world. I was going to miss the building. My favourite room. The small, oval staircase that led into the lobby from the reading area, but most importantly, the front of the place. It reminded me of Diagon Alley. The bright red door, that was slanted sideways, as if it was put on by someone who had no idea what they were doing. The reflective, black paint on the walls, that made young children and even some adults look twice as they thought they were seeing things. And the oval windows that were placed randomly in the wall, showing all different parts of the shop which excited young children as it was different.

Like me.

The Kings English bookshop had been a dear friend to me. And I would miss it.

I turn back around and make my way through the large crowds of people on the pavement, leading me to Hyde's Park. The sudden urge to talk to someone had me feeling strange and desperate. I needed someone to talk to. Harry was busy, as was Evelyn. They were both at work. My last resort would be Ginny, and she'd be pissed that I was interrupting her quidditch practice but once she heard me out, she always is forgiving and understanding. That's her best trait.

As I walk I mentally make a list of everything that I need to do. Skilfully dodging the crowd, I come up with a rather long list.

1. Go to Hyde Park.

2. Meet Ginny.

3. Make sure Ginny doesn't kill me for interrupting her.

4. Talk to Ginny.

5. Leave Ginny.

6. Go to Tesco's.

7. Buy food so that I do not starve myself to death.

8. Think about what I'm having for dinner on Friday.

9. Buy food and supplies for dinner with Harry and Ginny on Friday.

10. Go home.

11. Feed Crookshanks before he too kills me.

12. Have a shower.

13. Make dinner.

14. Get into bed.

15. Think about what I'm going to do about Malfoy.

There.

That's my list.

I'm a list maker.

As I've been mentally making this list, I find myself on the outskirts of Hyde Park. I manoeuvre myself through the passing people with difficulty until I pass through the entrance of the park. I make my way briskly, over to the small kiosk that was centered in the middle of the park.

As I approach it, the large man inside the kiosk locks eyes with me and waves enthusiastically. I giggle to myself, thinking that a man that big and strong should not be waving like a young girl. I find the sight rather amusing to say the least. I've stopped giggling by the time I arrive at the shack.

I queue up in the long line in front of me, where people are waiting to be served. He looks at me apologetically, before motioning me towards the backdoor. I nod at him before proceeding towards the back entrance to the small hut. I open the door and at once I am enveloped in a massive hug, taking my breath away literally.

"Hei Hermyony! How is you? I hav not seen you in a longe time! Vhere hav you been huh?!" he questions as he releases me slowly.

I look at the lovely Norwegian man in front of me and smile. He has been a dear friend of mine for a few years now. I used to come into the park everyday by myself to think before I started therapy. He was my only friend back then. And he was lovely.

"I'm good Vebjørn, I've missed you! I see you have been busy then?" I nod my head over to the customer who were waiting impatiently for him to return and serve them. He looks sheepishly at me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Fine..." I say with a smile. He grins back at me, showing of his perfectly straight and white teeth in the process. I walk with him to the register offering to help someone. After a few minutes of serving, the queue had died down and Vebjørn took a break. I followed.

He led me out the backdoor again, removing his t-shirt he had sweat in due to the summer sun and pulling out a thin cigarette. I couldn't help but look at the muscles briefly. A six-pack, with tanned skin and a bit of body hair.

I snorted.

He removed his shirt whenever he could. He didn't like wearing clothing. He was a funny boy. His body went well with his name though. In Norwegian Bjørn means Bear. It was very coincidental I thought. But he reminded me of Hugh Jackman so I couldn't be mad at him. Same shape, and I've always had a crush on him. Hugh Jackman I mean, not Vebjørn. He was more like my brother.

But I had to admit, he did have a great body.

"So vat are you dooing in my area of Londen den Hermyony?" he asks as he lights up his cigarette.

"Your area?" I laugh, and he smiles once more.

"I'm actually here to use the portkey if that's okay. My friend Ginny is captain of the Holyhead Harpies quidditch team and I really need to see her. It's important." I ask shyly, before looking up at him. His face was straight and lost of any emotion. He was clearly thinking, but he had an intimidating way of doing so. He never liked anyone knowing what he was thinking, even as a child, so he hid it. And till this day he still does. And very well.

If I didn't know him well I would think he hated me.

Vebjørn was still staring at me with a straight face, bringing his cigarette up once in a while to take a puff only to blow it straight back out again. He was the portkeys keeper. It was his real job, not a kiosk owner. He was a wizard, and quite powerful too from what I've been told, but he refuses to use magic anymore. His sister was killed from it when he was seventeen and he hasn't touched it since, thinking that it was the cause of her death. She was training at the ministry to be an Auror but she was distracted momentarily and she got hit by a spell that backfired and had double the impact. He never forgot or forgave. But he took his job seriously. And I knew only professional quidditch players or people with a pass could use this portkey, but here I was. Asking him like a tit.

"Well...?" I ask, having had enough of the silence.

His bright blue eyes become intense for a moment, then become soft showing the wrinkle in the corner of his eyes. He is torn. I know he loves me like a sister, I think that's why he finds it so hard when I am depressed or upset or angry or hurt. It's like his sister all over again. He doesn't want it to happen to me, or him.

He runs his hand through his dirty blonde, shaggy hair in a frustrated way. He finishes his cigarette and flicks the bud with his thumb and middle finger, sending it far across the grass.

"Hermyony, you know tat I caant do tat. I vant to but I caant." He says sadly, upset that he can't oblige. I sigh and look up at him.

"It's alright Bear. Honestly. It was just a question." I plaster a smile on my face, hoping he wouldn't see my true disappointment. I would talk to him, but not about Malfoy. He would just get protective and demand to meet him.

Crazy fool.

Plus, I really needed a girls opinion.

"I'm just going to go home then. I'll be back to see you soon Bear. I Promise." I utter to him softly. I give him a quick hug and a wave and begin walking off back to my small apartment, not caring about the stupid list now.

"Hermyony!" I hear.

I crane my neck round and see him jogging over to me, still shirtless and gaining the attention of many keen and interested women. Once he reaches me he grabs my hand and leads me back to the shack. As I look round I notice all the women staring daggers at me.

Why does this keep happening?!

I give up. He leads me inside and passes me an old spoon. I look at this rusted, dirty thing in my hand dumbfounded. I look up at his six foot five height with a questionably face. Unsure what to do, I keep looking back and forth between the spoon and him.

"um…Bear. Why have you just given me an old spoon? Is this some kind of Norwegian tradition or something?" I ask curious of his answer.

Without warning, he burst out laughing. His booming laugh almost shakes the shack itself, it's so loud I have hold my ears. When he's finally finished I look at him quizzically.

"No Hermy, dat is the portkey. It vill go in 2 minutes. It vill take you to the Qvidditch Pitch vhere your friend is playing." His smile fades as he says the next part to me.

"Hermyony. You must nott tell anyvone about me giving you dis. I vill be in a lott of trouble if dey find outt. Please…do nott say anything." He looks at me with pleading eyes.

I smile sadly at him, before jumping into his arms and giving him a massive hug.

"Of course I won't Bear! I would never tell on you! You're like my brother. I promise Bear, I promise." I murmur, my head still buried in his shoulder. As we release each other, he tells me I only have thirty seconds left. I grab hold of the shitty spoon and look at my dear friend, and brother.

"I'll see you soon I promise. And thank you Bear. Thank you." I smile gratefully at him earning me a wink in return.

"Hermyony…..keep going left" he says with a smile.

I look at him strangely, and then he's gone.

I feel the pinch. The gust of air on me, being pulled up into the sky, flying high over the country at exceeding heights.

I hate portkeys.

I let go.

Moments later I find myself in the middle of bloody nowhere with only grass around me and a few sheep.

Great.

Then I remember what Vebjørn said.

"Go left"

I look round and see nothing. I slowly make my way left, following a narrow and muddy path up a small hill.

CRACK.

I freeze. I listen hard, but don't hear anything again. I begin forward for a second time when I hear the same thing.

CRACK.

Irritated and slightly scared, I whip round coming face to face with my culprit, and my mouth falls open.

"Are you kidding me?"

In front of me was a ball of white wool that looked like it had a perm, standing at a height of roughly 75cm's, intense, grey eyes that looked as if they were happy but didn't really know why, and in addition, was chewing messily on a handful of grass.

"A sheep. I'm being stalked by a sheep." I say to no one, the first sign of madness.

I rub my eyes as a response, tired of this day and wanting it to end. As I open them again, I notice the sheep is right at my feet now, staring happily right at me, still munching on grass. My eyes expand and I slowly walk backwards.

The sheep follows.

I run.

The sheep trots.

Fuck.

I put my hands on my hips, and the sheep still stares at me. It's beginning to freak me out. I don't realize that as I've been trying to run away and get rid of this sheep, I've walked straight in front of the Quidditch stadium.

I crane my head upwards, and the sheep follows. I look seriously surprised at this sheep. I didn't think sheep could look up. As I'm looking weirdly at him, I swear he actually nods his head and winks.

Well…obviously this is a magical sheep then.

Duh.

"Look," I begin to the sheep.

"I have to go in here, but you can't come in. I'm sorry. I'm sure you're really nice, but I don't even live here and I can't take you back home with me. It wouldn't be right. I'm sorry, but I think it's best if you stay here. I'm really glad we met, and you helped me get here, but I need to go. I think it will be best for both of us. I'm sorry."

"Hermione!?" I hear. I look up into the sky and of course, there was Ginny, staring at me as if I had grown two heads.

She begins to descend on her broom.

Jesus, it's just a sheep. Get over it.

I look over my shoulder and the sheep was gone. I search frantically, for no reason. I felt quite close to it after my little monologue. When she reaches me, she dismounts and walks over.

"Hermione? What are you doing?" she asks slowly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I look at it and then back at her, with an equally strange look on my face.

"Are you referring to my being here…or me being with a sheep?" I ask questioningly.

She rolls her eyes and huffs, removing her hand from my shoulder and placing them on her hips.

Shit, I'm in trouble. She reminds me of her mum when she does that.

Damn.

"The sheep! I'm more curious about the sheep Mione! What were you doing with it?" she asks looking incredibly at me.

"I think I just broke up with it…But then it left me...so maybe I just got dumped...by a sheep." I raise my eyebrow and squint my eyes, raising a corner of mouth in the process; my dumbfounded look. I shake my head, getting my thoughts back on track.

"But never mind the stupid sheep! I need to talk to you Gin." I say desperately, pleading with my eyes.

"Mione, I'm training at the moment. If we want to win the world cup, we need to be the best, and I'm not going to be if I don't train. You know that." She replied matter-of-factly.

"Besides, if anyone knew you were here, you would be in serious trouble. I take it Vebjørn gave you the portkey. God, you've got him whipped Hermione. He'll give you anything you want, even he knows that. He's like your personal little bitch." She said bluntly, I just stared in shock. I knew she and Bear knew each other as that was once of the only ways to get to training but I didn't know there were on those terms. Terms where they talked about me at least. I was just about to ask her not to say anything to anyone about Vebjørn when she cut in.

"Don't worry Mione, I won't tell. But you should get out of here or else he **will** be in trouble. There's a portkey over there.." she pointed at the tree stump placed randomly in the middle of the clearing.

"There should be a penny on it, take that but it leaves in two minutes. Better hurry. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner Mione." She turned on her heel and began walking back to her broomstick which she had placed delicately down on the soft grass.

I was pissed. I would drop everything for that girl if she really needed to talk. If it was important. But she wouldn't even hear me out. I had had it. I was sick of being ignored.

As she rose into the air, about to speed off onto the field again, I called after her.

"I never ask you for anything Ginny!"

She halted. She turned to face me again with a sad look on her face.

"I need this. Please?" I ask sadly. There's a moment of silence between us. The only sounds are of quaffles being thrown, bludgers being hit, and goals being scored earning a few cheers from the rest of the team.

"Okay. Okay Hermione. If you really want to talk, I'll come round tonight. Maybe go out and get you relaxed a bit. I'll be over at nine. See you later Mione."

I smile. We both smile at each other.

"Thank you Gin. I really appreciate it."

"Just don't make a habit of it sheep lover!" she called back laughing to me as she flew off the win her game.

I made my way over to the penny on the tree stump and was transported straight back to Hyde Park, only to the opposite side and in a very small place. I gather my wits that had caused me to be disorientated and look around.

EW!

It led me into a port-a-cabin.

Just brilliant.

I open the door to the sun setting and disappearing over the impressively tall trees in the park. It wasn't busy now thankfully. People might get the wrong idea if they saw me now. I straighten my jacket out and try to fix my hair that had become the mirror image of a birds nest on my head. Finding my bearings, I realized I was not far from home at all. At this rate, I could just go to the shop on the way back home. Not make two stops in two different directions like usual.

Good. It's about time something went right today!

As I enter the food shop after five minutes of walking, my phone vibrates. However, I was surprised to find it was an unknown number. I hesitantly answer.

"Hello...?"

"Hermione! Hi!"

I breathe out the breath I didn't know I was holding. Some part of me thinking it might be someone else. A certain blonde man maybe.

But that's just me being stupid.

"Evelyn! How are you and what are you doing on a muggle phone? I didn't know you had one." I ask humorously whilst picking up a basket and making my way through the food court.

"Well, I just got it, you know, for the family and stuff. But I haven't been able to contact you all day to set up another appointment. And well, I bumped into Harry today and he gave me your number. I hope you don't mind me calling you." She asks timidly, not wanting to invade my privacy I suppose. I just smile through the phone.

"Ev, it 's fine. I'm glad you have it. Now I can pester you all the time." I joke, picking up the cheapest red wine as an intention to get slightly drunk tonight. If I was baring my soul to Ginny about Malfoy, I needed to have a bit of confidence. And I discovered in my sixth year at Hogwarts that alcohol helps.

"Oh great..." she replies moodily, going along with the joke and we both end up laughing through the phone.

"So I was just wondering if you were free on Monday for a session, say... 9:30am?" she asks, moving straight onto business. As I'm casually picking up some vegetables, I remember that I start work on Monday.

"Shit, Ev! I can't on Monday. I don't know when I will be able too. But I don't think I will this week. I'm starting my new job remember. Kingsley says that I've got a lot to do this week - "

"That's alright Mione." She cuts in and I stop talking automatically, listening intently to what she says.

"I personally think that you've been doing really well, so I think a week off therapy will be okay. See how everything goes. You never, know. This new job might ease you off therapy altogether. But you're not there just yet. We'll see what happens. Just let me know first thing when your available. Okay?" she asks politely.

I smile.

I do love Ev. I couldn't think what I'd be doing without her right now. I'd be lost. She is so trustworthy, and caring and kind. She's an amazing friend. I'm so glad we're friends. It seems strange to think there was a time when I didn't really like her.

I don't know what I was thinking.

"I'll let you know ASAP Ev. Don't worry." I reply happily. And I can hear her smile back at me.

"Now... What would you cook your friends if they were coming over for dinner on Friday night? Any ideas?" I ask, chuckling.

"Who are you cooking for?"

"Harry and Ginny" I reply and she reprimands herself.

"Oh, right! Well, you can never go wrong with something simple and classic. How about spaghetti?" she suggests casually.

"That's a brilliant idea Ev! God, what would I do without you?"

She laughs softly, and I think it's because she knows how important she is to me or because she feels the same way about me.

"Well, you definitely would not be cooking for many friends that's for sure!" she snorts, causing me too burst out laughing in the middle of the pasta isle, earning me a few strange stares.

"Right, well I'm going to go. I have some paperwork that I really need to do before Monday and you know me. Control freak. I'll talk to you later Mione" she announces, after she stopped giggling.

"Alright, I'll talk to you later. But you really deserve a holiday Ev. You need it." I suggest, offering my opinion as I reach the cash register, getting my wallet ready to pay.

"Haha, if only Hermione! Let me know how dinner goes! Bye." She replies happily and then she's gone.

By the time I've gotten home my hands are bruised from the plastic food bags. As soon as I open the door, I am bombarded by Crookshanks who wants his dinner.

"Crookshanks, it's only six thirty. Your dinner is only half an hour late. You won't die." I state casually, earning me the evil eyes.

I drop the bags on the kitchen counter and pour him his food. He digs in instantly.

What a fat little bundle of evil.

Oh well.

I empty the bags of shopping into the cupboards and shelves, and turning the oven on. I take my jacket off and toss my bag on the sofa, making a loud thump. I reach into the freezer and take out a Hawaiian pizza and put it in the oven to cook.

During the twenty minutes the pizza took to cook I decided to take a well deserved shower. As I let the hot water gently roll down my neck and face, I thought about what I was going to tell Ginny tonight. Getting out the shower, I dry myself off and wrap my hair in the towel before walking out into the kitchen and taking my pizza out the oven and slicing it up. I sat down on the sofa and ate in silence.

How do I explain to one of my best friends who I grew up with, that our "arch enemy" and I went on a date and I may or may not like him. I'm not sure.

I'm so confused. I don't know if I like him or not. I mean, sure he's incredibly sexy, and smart and a gentleman and ...

But he used to be such a dick. I get angry even thinking about how he used to be. And no matter how much I may or may not like him, even though I over exaggerated yesterday at the cafe, he really hurt me. And he's hurt me many times before.

I don't want that to happen again.

But what's irritating me the most, is that I have no idea what to do. And I always have the answer, but he makes me so nervous and unlike myself. He has that affect on people.

Bitch.

I'm still sitting in the same position come nine o'clock when Ginny arrives.

"Hi Gin" I say casually, taking my plate to the sink and pouring myself and her a big glass of wine. Handing it to her, I make my way back over to the sofa where we both sit down. She looks at me intently.

"Hey Mione." Smiling a small smile, before taking a sip of her wine.

"So, do you what to tell me what's going on?" she asks softly, like I'm delicate.

I look at her, scared of how she will react. Will she scream and Floo away to tell Harry? Will she slap me and beat me up for being so stupid? Will she say, wow that's great, you're perfect for each other?

I think I can rule the last one out, that will never happen.

"Hermione?" Ginny comes back into focus and I realized I had been daydreaming.

"Sorry Gin, um...I don't really know where to start."

"Start from the beginning Hermione. I'll hear you out. Promise." She smiles genuinely, taking another small sip of wine.

And I do.

I tell her everything that's happened. From me being in therapy this whole time, to why I'm there, to getting my dream job, to me bumping into Malfoy and then going on a date with him.

I tell her everything.

And she hasn't replied.

She's just staring at me with disbelief, unsure what to say.

"Just say it Gin. Tell me how stupid I am. How pathetic I am for falling for it! How naive I was! How he's only going to hurt me, and you know he will because he was in Slytherin and his father was a death eater! Just say something Gin, please." I whimper, ashamed at myself for succumbing to it.

"I think we should go out." She says simply.

I look up t her confused.

"What?" I ask

"Look, I'm not saying that Malfoy has suddenly turned into Little Miss Perfect and that he isn't still an arrogant arsehole. But I do know, that in all the time we were at Hogwarts, he had never taken a girl on a date before. Not even Pansy. And, in all honesty, he has no reason to spite you. I hate to say it, because I would love to kick that little pricks arse, but I think he has changed, maybe not completely...but he definitely isn't the same boy he was when he was at school. Even Harry says so. I mean, they get on okay now. They don't argue, he doesn't insult him or anything. Malfoy's civil to Harry. That's weird. So no, I don't like the idea and I think you should be careful with him, but I do think he has changed. And that he did genuinely want to take you out."

She pauses to look at me. I take in all of what she's just said.

"But right now, I think you need a distraction. You need to take your mind of it. You said it yourself, you don't even know if you like him or not. You feel guilty about acting the way you did, that's natural. That doesn't mean you love him. Let's go out tonight, and have a good time. I'll be your wing-woman. You know I'm good at it." She winks at me, supportingly.

"But first, we need to get you changed and looking sexy!" she shouts, grabbing my arm and pulling my into my bedroom.

Two hours later, we are both fully dressed.

After a lot of rummaging through my cupboards and wardrobes, Ginny finally found the perfect thing for me to wear. Simple but effective, that's what she said.

She decided on a pair of Levi navy, denim shorts that were incredibly short, and a colourful corset-like top with a range of pinks, blues, greens and purples, that zips down the front in an Aztec pattern. I wore all of this with six inch black heels that were actually rather comfortable to walk in.

I must say.

I looked good.

Nothing compared to Ginny, but I think I looked quite nice.

Ginny, as usual, the redheaded bombshell, was in a little black dress, amplifying her red hair and her bright green eyes that were covered in sexy black eye shadow making her look like a seductress. In addition to this, she wore black heels that were studded and had a red platform.

She looked hot.

I wonder how Harry would feel about this?

We grab out purses and apparate just outside the muggle club where we were heading to.

The music is already blaring and the queue is massively long. Luckily, due to Ginny's long legs and her "I don't give a fuck" attitude, the bouncer allows us in before the other people. We both giggle to each other as we receive our armbands.

The place is packed and I'm already feeling a lot better, my mind completely rid of Malfoy. However, that could just be the wine talking. As we make our way over to the bar to order more drinks, I take the time to look around the place.

The club used to be an old hall where people would hold weddings or meetings or even ballroom dance shows, which is why it was so big. It was a dome shape with two floors, the dance floor on the ground and the VIP area on the floor above, allowing everyone up there to watch you dance from the balcony's. The bar was long and rectangular, selling every type of muggle alcohol you could think of, with bartenders that were insanely skilled. The dance floor was packed but I could faintly see small podiums placed randomly where people can climb up on and dance if they want. All in all, a fucking amazing club.

After an hour of drinking and dancing with each other we're both pretty drunk; Ginny significantly more so though.

"I need a drink!" Ginny shouts at me, I nod my head to signal that we can head over to the bar.

"What can I get you ginger?" the bartender asks, winking.

"Something strong I think. A gin and tonic!" she replies casually.

"Well why not try me then? I'm strong, aren't I babe?"

"You're not my type mate" she laughs loudly, causing him to get confused. Obviously he is used to girls wanting him. But Ginny was not about to cheat on Harry for some horny bastard.

"I can be whatever you want me to be baby" leaning over the bar and lowering his voice in attempt to seduce her.

"What? You can be a girl?"

That got him.

"What?" he asks, confused. Obviously he didn't make it past the third grade.

"I'm a lesbian. Sorry. I'm sorry you had to see that babe" Looking at me and smiling lovingly.

"It's okay baby. I know you would never cheat on me." I reply smiling, trying to contain my laughter.

"I don't believe you" he states quickly. Looking back and forth between us.

"Why not?" Ginny asks, all innocent looking.

"Look..." Taking her hands and putting them on either side of my face, she pulls me in for a long and passionate kiss, giving him a full view of what's going on. Luckily, we've been in this situation before, so we were both prepared this time. After a minute we broke away, breathing.

She smiles at me, then turns round to the bartender who's standing with his mouth open along with a few other people, and looks at him with a serious look in her eyes.

"Satisfied?" she asked in a low voice, jolting him out of his trance.

"I...Um...Wh...Ye...Huh...?" he asks, starting to get nervous and aroused at the same time.

He'll have blue balls tomorrow, I think.

Poor lad.

"I said are you satisfied now?" she repeats this time louder with more seriousness in her tone. She doesn't like it when men don't take no for an answer. That's when she gets angry. The bartender looks at her and replies with a quick and brief,

"Yes."

Ginny smiles.

"Good. Can I have my gin and tonic now please?" she asks too politely. He nods his head and begins preparing it. I look at her knowingly. She just shrugs. I roll my eyes at her.

God, she's so good at being a bitch.

Placing the drink on the bar, he says the drink is on the house. She smiles up at him before turning round and leaning against the bar. Only I noticed the man run around the bar to the room behind. After a couple minutes a new barman came out to replace him.

Good.

All of a sudden Ginny starts squealing.

"What the fuck Gin!?" I shout, looking at her crazily.

"Hold this Mione, I love this song!" Ginny shouts over to me as she makes her way through the crowd to dance to "Sweet Nothing" by Calvin Harris and Florence Welsh.

"If you ask me to hold your drink, I will drink it..." I scream after her. Left alone, I decide to order a few more shots.

"What can I get you love?" the new bartender asks, smiling.

"Can I get five more shots of Sambuca please!" I yell to him.

" Alright, you're the boss!" he replies grinning, clearly impressed that I can hold my liqueur.

Paying for the drinks, I down them all quickly, wanting the effect as soon as possible. With my vision becoming slowly blurry, I make my way to the dance floor, squeezing between people kissing and grinding each other. My thoughts on finding Ginny have vanished as I am taken away by a song. Feeling the beat of the music, I close my eyes and start to move my hips.

Faster and faster.

I open them when I hear whistling.

I look round to see a circle formed round me, all eyes on me. I stop, suddenly embarrassed.

"Don't stop, that was fucking amazing!"

"Yeah, keep going!"

"Damn, that was sexy!"

"I wonder what else she can do with those hips!?"

Suddenly I feel a hand on my wrist dragging me in the opposite direction, causing many people to boo and complain.

"Mione, that was amazing, you never told me you danced like that. Literally, the whole club was looking at you!" she grins at me.

"No they weren't Gin, don't be stupid" I reply quietly. She opens her mouth to argue but I just leave her and walk back onto the dance floor.

After a couple of minutes, I felt someone come up behind me, grabbing my hips and pulling me into him in the process. Normally I would be appalled at this, but my drunk-self was not upset in the least. In fact, she rather liked the attention she was getting. That was until he attempted to put his hands down my shorts. That's when I reached my limit.

Giving him a death stare, that probably looks absolutely retarded, I walk off onto another part of the floor. A few minutes pass when I feel hands on me again. I turn round, now pissed.

"Loo- "

I stop.

Fuck.

Staring down at me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Wearing a plain white, designer v-neck top that was tight on his muscles giving me a mouth-watering view of his biceps and a faint outline of his six-pack. Dark, navy blue jeans that shaped him superbly, showing off every inch of him, with his brown Oxford shoes that shined from the lights in the club.

I was staring at him and I didn't know what to do.

He had literally taken my breath away.

"Granger"

He looks at me questioningly, placing his hand on my arm, and looking for any sign of injury or anything.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone serious. He is genuinely concerned for me, but I just can't help but stare. I can't say anything.

"Hermione-" That's Ginny's voice. She stops talking once she see's Malfoy. She becomes sober quickly in that moment. A makes her way over to me and pulls my arm, thus causing Malfoy to remove his hand from my skin.

"Come on, it's two thirty, the club closes in half an hour and Harry will be worrying about me."

Losing all contact with him.

"No." I say, grabbing back onto his hand. His silver eyes meet mine, and I snatch my hand back away. They both look at me, concerned. I look at Ginny, I need to be able to speak and I won't be able to do that If I stare at him.

"I'm fine Ginny. Don't worry about me. Go back home, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl. And I'll see you tomorrow anyway." I pull her aside for a brief moment.

"Thank you for tonight Ginny. I really did have an amazing time. You helped a lot. Your my best friend and I love you. But I need to see what this is and what it all means. I can't just shut it out. Maybe all I need to do is apologize then it will go away, I don't know. But I won't know until I've tried." I explain softly. She looks at me with sad eyes.

"Just be careful Hermione. I don't want to see you get hurt." I smile at her. Pulling her in for a hug and then she's gone.

I turn round, thinking that he's probably walked off with some random, and beautiful girl, but he's there. Leaning against the wall of the club casually. Waiting and looking intently at me.

I take a deep breath.

Or more of a gasp.

I walk forward slowly.

I clear my throat, and try to clear my head which is still a bit foggy.

"Hi" I shout to him.

Well done Hermione, you said a word.

So eloquent.

He smiles at me. It's a smile that reaches up to his eyes. Its a nice smile, one that I very rarely see on him. It makes me smile too.

"Hi" He replies.

I smile back at him. Then I remember what I said to him and my smile fades.

"Mal-... Draco, I'm so sorry about my behaviour at the restaurant. I was out of order and over exaggerating and making a complete arse out of myself. We were having a nice time and then I ruined it. I'm truly sorry. Can you forgive me?" I ask sadly, looking him in the eyes, trying to express how sorry I am even though I'm slightly drunk. He looks at me, and walks over so we're an inch apart from each other.

My breath hitches.

"Well, you were very rude Hermione, but I'm willing to forgive you, if..." he begins but pauses just as he's about to explain what I can do to make it up to him.

That cunning man.

"If what?" I ask, somewhat dreading and afraid of the answer. I might rather he hate me if it's something horrible.

"Dance with me." He says simply. I crane my neck backwards to get a better view of his face.

"What?" I ask, not sure I heard him correctly. He smiles and brings his lips to my ear.

"Dance with me..." he purrs, causing me to shiver. I push him back softly so I can speak to him.

"Why? Why me, there are so many better looking and better dancers here. Why me?"

"Jesus, you do have trust issues don't you" he breathes. He stares at me and laughs sadly.

" You've just asked for my forgiveness over something you did and I have forgiven you quite simply. On top of that, I haven't insulted you once since we met each other again, what more do you want from me? I am no longer a child. I'm not the child I was at school and never will be again. All I am doing is asking you for a dance. I mean I've basically thrown all of my pride and dignity away and I'm practically begging you to dance with me. So please...say yes." He finishes staring at me with his grey eye. I look at him, and in that moment, I can tell he is being honest and sincere.

"Okay" I reply quietly. He looks at me as if he needs more confirmation. Nodding, I repeat myself and make my way over to the dance floor, him hot on my trail.

Well, if we're going to dance, I'm going to make it fun. I smile to myself. He won't know what got him.

I turn around to look for him, but he was right in front of me. With the eyes of a predator, he grabs my arms and pulls me into him, causing our chests to meet. Through his thin cotton top, I can feel his muscles, setting me on edge. Slowly he moves his hands that were holding onto mine and place them on his neck, releasing my hands and sneaking his own around my waist and hips. As we look at each other, my fingertips touch the soft length of his hair, making me want to touch more of it. I can feel him slowly tracing circles on my back with his thumbs, giving me chills. As we begin to move, we get more comfortable. When the music began to speed up, our hips matched each other in perfect synchronization Dancing with him was otherworldly but it felt so natural. Suddenly his hand moves ever so slightly downwards. I probably wouldn't have realized or noticed this if it was anyone else but I was tingling just from touching him.

When I didn't pull away, he slid his hand into the pocket on my backside. I smiled to myself and did something I would normally never do. I boldly let my hands drift over his toned abdomen, up his chest and down his shoulders. I look up at him with a new found confidence to see him smiling sexily at me. I pull him down by his shirts and whisper in his ear.

"I think I just found a new reason to like Quidditch."

I hear him growl and it sets all of my senses on fire.

Then I stop.

And suddenly everything comes crashing down.

Malfoy is looking at me, with worry etched on his face. So unlike Malfoy.

"Hermione? Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asks pressingly whilst scanning my face trying to read my expression.

I look at him before saying,

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He releases the breath he has been holding and smiles slightly.

"Alright, come on Hermione."

He leads me out of the club to an empty street before stopping to check if I was okay.

"Hermione, look at me." He says. I look up into his eyes and smile.

"Hermione, are you okay for apparating? Or do you want me to walk you home?" he asks. I giggle at him causing him to smirk.

"Such a gentleman Malfoy. No, I'm fine, honestly. You can apparate if you want. I'll be okay" giving him a huge smile. I think I may be the only person who gets drunker after I stop drinking and after a long period of time.

What the hell is wrong with my body?

He looks hesitant, but grabs my waist and I don't complain. The feel of his hands on my body, even in a nonsexual way, is enough to give me butterflies in my stomach. And I find myself not wanting him to let me go.

I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't like him, I think to myself.

Shit.

I buried my face in his strong shoulder as he held me closely. In this moment, all I could think of that that I needed him. I needed his arms around me, needed him to hold me and tell me that everything would be okay.

Then I knew.

He counts to three.

"One" he begins.

"Two."

I didn't make it to three.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hiya people :)**

**I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in such a long time, but I have been busy with university work and other things too. However, I have made this a long chapter and It's from our favourite blonde haired boy's point of view. **

**Yay!**

**So, I hope you enjoy and I promise to update soon :)  
Love you lots,**

**XXX**

* * *

CHAPTER 7

DRCAO POV.

"Shit!"

A hiss suddenly went through the air, disturbing the peaceful morning. Draco Malfoy was currently hiding in the sun room, his second favourite room after the library.

Draco Malfoy sat pondering with his fingers laced and his elbows resting on the table. His thumbs rested on his lips and the silver crest of his family ring gleamed in the gloomy summer light.

He had grown not only in age, but in body as well, as proved by his tall, sculpted frame. Every muscle was taught and hard. He was no longer lanky or thin. His white-blonde hair was now natural and handing loose past his ears in a sophisticated manner; he ran his fingers through it, messing it up in all directions. He had developed in ideals as well. He'd realized some time ago that his father's morals were wrong. His ways were dark. He wasn't exactly sure he'd ever believed in the Dark Arts. It was, by his reckoning, fear that had held him in the Dark path he was so accustomed to now. But fear, he no longer felt. With his maturity, his powers had also grown. He held enough power now to rival every wizard he personally knew, and even some that had gone down in the history books. He surpassed his father in power. His father would not force him down a path of destruction, even after his death. So much had changed. So much was different. He was so different. He wanted to be good. He wanted to forget most of the things that his father had taught him. He would try; it was all he _could_ do.

Though he was silent and expressionless, one could tell he was thinking about the events of the previous night.

It had been ... eventful to say the least.

* * *

"Blaise, what are you doing here!?" I ask smiling, embracing my best friend with an unusually uncharacteristic hug. I hadn't seen him in a few days, and was expecting him later on in the week, or maybe two. Blaise was never good at keeping dates. But it was nice to have him back. He was the closest thing he had to a brother. They grew up together and shared the same interests and had been best friends since their first day on the Hogwarts Express. Though it was very unlike Malfoy...he missed his best friend. He felt like he had no one. And with Blaise's busy schedule, they hadn't really been seeing each other for more than an hour at a time over the last few weeks. Therefore, he was going to enjoy the time he had with him, for however long Blaise would be staying for this time. He needed some guy time.

"Well, you know me. Just keeping busy. Work and all that." He replied as they released each other.

Since their graduation from Hogwarts Blaise had been keeping busy buying and selling properties and basically pimping them out for himself or customers, consequently making him even more wealthier than he was when he was scavenging off his mother back at school. He earned a little less than Draco did, but it was still a considerable amount of money.

"Work can't be that tough. Think about me! I'm royally fucked, I've got so much going on! Paperwork, clients, meetings...so don't you complain."

"Oh I'm not. Definitely not. I'm rather enjoying it if you know what I mean..." He added with a wink and a light punch on the arm.

And he did know.

He knew very well what he meant.

Lots...and lots...and lots...of sex.

Fuck.

"You suck." I reply after a second silence, sour at this fact.

"Well actually Maya does all the sucking. As well as Tiffany, Beatrice, Catherine and Molly. If you're only counting the girls from my recent purchase that is..." he added mischievously, grinning like a Cheshire cat on crack.

Sulking, I leave my best friend in the lobby of Malfoy Manor and walk into the magnificently large living room overlooking the gardens outside through the glass panes on the wall opposite.

Had Blaise really taken the title of "Slytherin Sex-God from me after all?

Blaise Zabini, the son of a famously beautiful witch who had been widowed seven times over by 1996, was by far, the biggest male "slut" he had ever met. Even bigger than himself one might say.

Obviously he was following in his mothers footsteps.

"Oh don't be like that. You'll always be the better looking, with the most money and the bigger assets..."

"Oh don't I know it. My assets are HUGE!" I replied with a booming laugh.

Blaise cringed at the meaning of the sentence he just uttered.

"I didn't mean it like that... but whatever boosts your ego man." He smiles back at Draco who was still laughing.

As the friends chatted and caught up on old times, time flew by and soon it was gone six o'clock and the sun was going down.

"So, we've been talking for around three hours and you still haven't told me why you're here Blaise.." I state calmly, coolly taking a sip of my brandy.

Sitting up straight, the man opposite him places his drink down on the table in front of him and stares ahead with a silly grin plastered all over his face.

"Well...I sense that for the last week or whatever, you have been rather distracted..."

I stopped sipping my drink momentarily, before resuming as normal, acting as if nothing had happened.

It had though.

_She_ had happened.

Granger.

It was infuriating me.

I didn't know what to do. Didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to act. It was as if I had suddenly turned into a Pygmy Puff for fuck sake. Or Weasley...Jesus!

I was going all sappy and sensitive and I didn't like it one bit. Girls wouldn't like that! They'd run a mile.

Would _she_?

STOP!

"Dude!?..."

I was jolted out of my thoughts and back to reality in which my best friend was sitting in front of me with a slight half smile on his chiselled face.

"See what I mean. Your mind has been everywhere lately...what's up with you?"

Silence.

I did not want to talk about her yet. I didn't want to think about her.

That's a lie.

I always wanted to think about her.

She came to me in my dreams and even in reality when they collided at work. I became happy automatically on those days, just by seeing her and talking to her.

"Draco?"

More silence.

Minutes ticked by and I didn't know how much longer I could take not telling my best friend.

"Drake..?" he asked softly. It was my old nickname in school that set me off. I grabbed at my platinum blonde hair in fury and confusion at the situation. I didn't know what to do. Perhaps telling Blaise would help. Offer some advice maybe.

"I think I like someone..." I whisper barely audible but Blaise heard it regardless. His eyes opened wider knowing how his friend had never been the one to fall for someone. Draco was more of a "fuck-them-and-leave-them" kind of guy.

Well...obviously not anymore.

"Who? And that's not a bad thing, I mean I know you were never, and have never, really been the relationship kind of guy but-"

"Blaise..."

Blaise became silent quickly upon hearing the hitch in his best friends voice. This was serious.

It can't be that bad, Blaise thought to himself.

"Who is it mate?"

...

"Draco?..."

Taking a deep breath I said the two words I never thought I would say.

"Hermione Granger."

All was silent.

Dead silent.

In honour of Mark Twain;

"The right word may be effective, but no word was ever as effective as a rightly timed pause."

Sadly, this was not one of those times.

God how I wished it was.

Taking a deep breath, I placed my distant mask on, thus displaying no emotion on my face whatsoever as a personal barrier that I had developed ever since I was a child.

"Why are you here Blaise" I asked bluntly, diverting the conversation away from myself and pouring a large gulp of the fire-like liquid down my throat before proceeding to top it up once more in attempt to drown my sorrows.

Sighing in defeat and knowing it would be best not to push his best friend, Blaise returned to explain yet again why he was here in the first place.

"I have an event tonight." Blaise announces with no emotion in his voice. I look up and lock eyes with him in a questioningly stare.

"I found it last week. A nice place too if you ask me, but the owner wants to sell so I jumped at the offer. It's not too far away from Piccadilly either so perfect location. I think it's going to be my best buy yet." He paused.

Raising an eyebrow, I beckon him to elaborate as to why this was of such importance he had to come unannounced and make a big deal about it.

"I think you should come with me" He states boldly.

I almost splutter my drink all over my newly carpeted floor.

"What?" I gasp, trying to inhale oxygen again.

"Why on earth do you think that? I don't even know what kind of place it is. And knowing you it will probably be like a sex dungeon or something kinky like that..." I continued, my question in a more composed manner this time.

"Draco...!" he scolded.

"I'm shocked! I would never take you to a sex dungeon. I wouldn't like the competition." He added, causing me to scrunch up my face in disgust. Despite all of the rumours at school, although he had been with his fair share of women, he enjoyed a more sensual sex session than just going straight in, no foreplay, banging it out in ten minutes.

Wasn't really my cup of tea.

"But, luckily for you, this place is not a sex dungeon as you so put it. It's actually...a club." He grinned a satisfactory grin before relaxing in his chair more. As I open my mouth I get cut off.

"No. Drake listen to me. I don't want to meddle with your life. But I can tell you are having a hard time with this Granger thing. And to be honest, I can't believe it's Granger that you're falling for. I mean it's Granger. But I can see the attraction. At an equal intelligence to you, pretty, she certainly has blossomed after we ended school, developed nicely. Now that you mention it she is in good shape to for fucki-"

"Hey! Don't talk about her like that, she's not a common slut!" I snap angrily, causing Blaise to lift his brows in unexpectedness over the sudden protectiveness I had for Hermione.

"...you really like her. Don't you Drake?" Blaise asked softly. Earning him a hopeless look of despair.

"Right, that's it. We're going out. And I'm not taking no for an answer mate." He added when he saw I was about to protest. Getting up, Blaise strolled across the living room to where I was sitting and motioned for me to get up. As I was rising, he continued his monologue.

"We're going clubbing. Simple as that. And, even though you might protest, I think you should get laid. You need it. Either, you are sexually frustrated and are using Granger as a means of releasing that and only that, or you do genuinely like her. And I think this will be a good was to test that theory. You're not dating so no harm will come of it. Just see how the night goes and try to get your mind off it for one night and go back to being the Draco that I knew when we were at school together."

After a few silent minutes, I gave in.

"Okay." I answer, rolling my eyes in an exasperated way.

"Good. If I give you the address, I'll meet you there. Now, I need to get back to Maya, she's been waiting for me since noon. Hate to keep her waiting." He added smirking whilst noting down the address of which Malfoy would need to floo to later on.

"Oh sweet Jesus..."

"See you at half ten mate."

And with that, he apparated away. Leaving me all alone in the confinement of my own home.

Wondering around the mansion, I was lost in time. Thinking about my conversation with Blaise and how I didn't really receive much help on the matter but, is not instead going to substitute confusion with sex.

Very Blaise.

Great...

Thinking about what would happen tonight, to what I would do if the situation presented itself. Would I actually go through with it. Hermione was so angry at me that day at lunch when she found out how many muggleborns I'd shagged. Would this be any different. Or would it be worse. What if it was a muggle club. Blaise forgot to mention that little tiny detail.

Well, I'd find out sooner or later.

By the time I had pondered about all of these things, it had gone nine o'clock. I silently cussed at myself for having let my imagination roam free again. Taking a shower, my mind wrapped itself around thoughts of Hermione yet again for the hundredth time that day. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know how or why I wanted her, if I even did.

*Twitch*

I stop showering and stand still. As I look down, I see my answer. One that would not lie to me about how I felt.

*Twitch*

I realized that not only did I have a throbbing erection, I understood then why I had one in the first place.

Hermione.

*Twitch*

"Shit!" I swear aloud. I didn't have time for this shit. I turned the cold water tap on and let all my thoughts of Hermione be washed away with the ice cold jets splashing over my body.

Come ten o'clock I was ready and raring to go. My little shower accident had left me hungry for more and incredibly irritable, especially in _that_ department. I had decided upon my designer white v-neck top that was deliberately tight, all in attempt to show off the bulging muscles in my arms and torso. I combined this with navy blue jeans with my favourite brown Oxford shoes, of which I had many galore. Staring in the mirror to check my appearance for the hundredth time, I casually ran a hand through my hair before turning on my heel and making from my room towards the lobby of the manor where the magical fireplace was located. Stepping into the extravagant fireplace, I recited the address Blaise had left for me and seconds later, I was uncomfortably jerked backwards before landing at the desired address.

Swaggering out of the grimy fireplace, I dusted myself off and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings I now found myself in. It was a small building, about the size of a broom cupboard at Hogwarts and almost as tall as me too. Craning my neck from left to right I deduced that the building I was in was in fact a small antique shop. The place was glistening with trinkets in every corner, varying from jewels to gems, to expensive rocks and to inexpensive ornaments. The place was covered from head to toe in both old and new random pieces of what I would classify as "muggle junk."

Well, if there's a muggle shop here, then the club I was heading to was definitely muggle too. There was no way anyone in the wizarding community would place a club, where people get drunk and could potentially expose themselves as wizards, in a muggle community.

No chance.

Treading carefully out of the small shop, I stood hidden in the shadow of the building to avoid the inevitable stares from the onlookers. Leaning against the wall of the building, I observed the muggles and their behaviour, silently thanking Merlin that I was born a wizard.

"Wow, you really pulled out all the stops tonight didn't you...I'm impressed!" A voice declared over the loudness of the crowd outside, all of who were waiting impatiently to get into the popular muggle club.

Smirking, I remain still.

"Cheers Blaise" I reply casually, finally looking over to my best friend who had also dressed to impress. Wearing head to toe white, he looked like he meant business. Looking at the psychological view, white is known as being the colour of perfection. Which, from what I could gather, was _exactly_ what he was aiming for tonight. The only other colour I could see on Blaise was on his belt which was of course, green.

Slytherin to the end.

I grin at my friend, "Shall we?" I ask jokingly.

"HA! I knew you would come around. This is just what you need. Come, follow me." He laughed before striding over to the entrance of the club with determination in his eye. The bouncer at the front of the door looked stressed in his hectic job. He turned his head, sensing someone was approaching, probably thinking it was some yob who thought he was someone important enough to get in ahead of everyone else. He did a double take when he saw Blaise though and immediately unchained the velvet rope surrounding the door beckoning him and his friends to enter.

The music hit their ears instantly, practically bursting their eardrums in the process too. I look over to Blaise, who was giving me a hand motion, indicating for me to follow. Making their way to the spiral stairs, I checked out the place. And was happily surprised.

For muggles, it was a fucking awesome club. I had to admit it.

They had style.

Climbing the stairs, Blaise shouted over the music, finally getting my attention.

"How do you like it? Fucking brilliant right!?"

"Yeah! Always thought muggles were prudes about stuff like this. Still not as good as ours though!" I added with a smile, earning a booming laugh from Blaise which was hardly heard through the music.

Finally, they came to a door at the top of the stairs. Stopping, I was curious as to what they were waiting for. In front, Blaise whipped something out of his pockets and began rustling around.

Keys.

Unlocking the door, the stepped inside and shut it behind them. The room was thankfully a lot quieter, though they could still hear the music, they were now able to have a decent conversation at the same time.

Thank fuck.

The circular room had two green leather sofa seats placed dead centre of the room, facing towards a wall. The entire wall that the leather chairs were facing, was covered in complete glass, exposing the crowd of people below who appeared to be dancing for their life. With a bar in the corner and the privacy of each other, it was perfection. Especially when a tall, petite blonde came over from the bar to introduce herself.

"Ah, Drake, _this_ is Lottie. Lottie, this is Draco. Now, give him anything he wants tonight, understand? Whatever he asks for, no hesitation. He's here to enjoy himself tonight!" Blaise recited smiling, lighting up a cigar offering one to me with his hand.

Shaking my head, I glanced over the young woman in front of me. Eyeing her up, I couldn't help but admire her. She was a very sexy young woman. Wearing tight black hot-pants that revealed _way_ too much that matched with her stockings and a tight black corset top, underneath which she was obviously wearing a push-up bra. Probably to get the attention of random men, and hence bigger tips.

Smart.

Very Slytherin-like.

I smirked.

I wanted to pounce on her this very minute and ravish her until she screamed in pleasure. But I didn't. Something was holding me back and I didn't know what. And it was irritating me.

"What can I get you handsome?" she purred, batting her eyelashes. Blaise snorted in the corner.

I shot him a look, then returned my eyes back to hers. Or...her breasts more like. Which were literally in my face.

"I'll have a whisky please sweetheart" I decided giving her the Malfoy smirk and earning me a blush in return. Well, perhaps if I was drunk, this weird feeling would go away.

Lottie turned on her six inch stiletto heels, sauntering back over to the bar, arse swaying back and forth deliberately, frequently looking over her shoulder back at me in what she thought was a sexy way.

I looked back at his best-friend who had watched the whole thing, and was silently clapping his hands in a joking manner.

"Still got it mate. Slytherin sex-god to the end. I raise my glass to you."

"I would raise you mine too but I haven't got a glass." I added quickly, laughing with my best friend.

Quickly, Lottie retuned with my much anticipated whisky in her well manicured hand and gave it to me with a beaming smile.

"Thank you" I replied, grabbing her hand and giving it a kiss. She blushed. Again. As she turned to walk away, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards me so that she fell onto my lap. Reaching for her waist, I lifted her up easily and placed her in a more comfortable position. She giggles and places a hand on my well defined chest.

As the night wore on, perhaps an hour or so later, Blaise was drunk and on his eleventh absinthe, and I was borderline tipsy having only drunk a few whisky's. The girl in my lap was still obsessing over me, giggling profusely and stroking my arms and chest. I found this slightly annoying.

"Mate, you okay?" Blaise called out to me. I craned my neck to the right to see my best friend looking over concerned. It would have been a very touching moment, if it was not for the red lipstick smeared all over his mouth and a leggy girl straddling his hips.

I burst out laughing.

"I can't take you seriously with that crap on your face mate. No offence." The girl on his lap, which was the notorious Maya, smiled and carefully proceeded to wipe the lipstick off. Blaise smiled up at her.

And my smile dissaparated.

Looking at the scene unfolding in front of me, I suddenly felt very alone. Blaise looked happy, so did Maya. From a strangers point of view one would think they were dating. Despite knowing better, I still felt a pang of jealousy. Absentmindedly, I stared over to the window, watching the people below dance energetically.

"I might go in a minute mate, not really feeling it anymore" I asserted nonchalantly. Blaise, who had given up on getting rid of the lipstick and went straight back to practically dry humping each other, halted in his tracks and gave a questioning look to his best friend.

"What's wrong mate? Why, I thought you were enjoying yourself. Lottie not good enough?" he joked.

"No." I replied bluntly, not caring if he hurt the girls feelings.

She looked angrily at me before getting up off my lap and returning to the bar where she remained sulking.

"Mate I was just joking. Don't leave, I'll bring you someone else, it's no problem." He pleaded in attempt to bribe Malfoy into staying. Still looking out into the crowd in a trance, the replied;

"No, sorry mate but I'm-"

I stop.

Blaise, suddenly concerned, gently lifted Maya off his lap and placed her in the seat, before walking over to me.

"Mate? What's wrong?" he asked nervously.

But I still couldn't speak.

Everything had stopped.

Because in that moment, I didn't see anything else.

I didn't need anything else.

I didn't want anything else.

I just needed...and wanted..._her_.

Hermione.

I had spotted her by the bar on the opposite end of the club, ordering drinks with her red-haired friend. She looked beautiful. But sexy. I had to have her.

With that, I got up with the speed of a Seeker and bolted straight to the door. Blaise in the meantime had followed my friends gaze and saw too what I had been looking at.

"Drake!? Do you really think this is a good idea? Honestly?" he called out after me. I stopped in my tracks. Mentally debating with myself if my best friend was right or if my head and maybe heart was...

I turned to face him, hand still on the doorknob.

"Blaise, I don't know if it is a good idea or not. But what I do know, is that as soon as I saw her, I wanted to go to her. I can't help it. But that should tell you something. It's not a stupid little school crush, or anything like that. It's like I'm infatuated with her. I need to be close to her. I need her. I want her. And I can't help it."

A pregnant pause followed for the next few minutes, until surprisingly Maya broke the silence.

"Go." She told me, earning a look of disbelief from both myself and Blaise.

"Go. I doesn't take that much to see that you care for her, in whatever way it is. You still care. I can see it. And because, I gather you do not feel these things often, you don't know how to act upon them. So I'm telling you, as a woman, go to her. Now. Go." She repeated softly with a small smile. And I did just that. I didn't need to be told twice.

"Thank you" I said smiling, then I turned the doorknob and practically sprinted down each step.

Reaching the bar by the main floor, and slightly panting, I look over the crowds of people, searching for a certain someone.

"If you ask me to hold your drink, I will drink it..." someone screams out.

Granger.

I look over to find the source and find her over at the opposite end of the bar alone. I stares at her for a few seconds as she is ordering some shots of sambuca. Watching her down all five shots, one after the other, I was impressed. Turning on her heel and obviously slightly intoxicated she headed to the dance floor. Smirking, I make my way slowly over to her, following where she went. However, due to the mass crowd I quickly lose her. After minutes of looking, I head to the outskirts of the crowd to try to look again. Running a hand through my hair, I catch the eye of someone. High above, hidden behind a glass window was Blaise pointing over to a circle that was being formed in the crowd.

That's where she was.

Nodding to him in appreciation, I make my way aggressively over to the circle. As I reach it, I stop very quickly, as the sight before me consequently causes me to drop my jaw and make my eyes almost jump out of their sockets.

In front of me was Granger. Miss Prissy Knickers. Miss Goody-two-shoes. The school swot. The know-it-all.

Not anymore.

Hermione Granger was currently dancing in such a sexual way, that I would bet all of my earnings and everything I owned that Hermione Granger was the best dancer I had ever seen.

And I had seen many dancers.

Both professional and not.

Swaying her hips side to side with the beat of the music in perfect synchronization, I was mesmerized and awestruck at the same time. That was until some fuckers had to ruin it.

"Don't stop, that was fucking amazing!"

"Yeah, keep going!"

"Damn, that was sexy!"

"I wonder what else she can do with those hips!?"

I see red.

In that moment I wanted nothing else than to Avada each of those fuckers into oblivion. And I was about to, until the star of the show was roughly snatched from the circle and pulled in the complete opposite direction, causing many groans and moans from her audience.

Craning my neck over the crowd, I see the kidnapper. Ginny Weasley. She was probably going to take her home as it was late. Hermione probably wanted to leave after those blokes said those things to her anyway. Silently, I thanked Ginny, as I would have probably done the same thing.

After I killed those arsehole of course.

Reversing back into a wall and giving a huge sigh of disappointment, I mentally reprimanded myself. Giving a huge sigh, I made my way over towards the exit when I saw her again, dancing with a guy in a rather provocative manner which she certainly wasn't happy about. Especially when he started to reach down her shorts.

I saw red.

Again.

As I was making my way over, Hermione had spun around to the sleaze who had groped her and gave him a full on death stare, causing even me to stop in my tracks.

Shit.

She was scary as fuck sometimes.

Shaking my head, I continued towards her as the gropey git ran off. Then she was right in front of me.

Right there.

Close enough to touch.

I could smell her natural scent of vanilla and blossom. Hesitatingly, I put my hands on her hips. Turning around, clearly not wanting to repeat the last dance again, she began to speak,

"Loo- "

She stops.

All I can do is stare.

Fuck.

….

Finally composing myself, I put on my best Malfoy smirk and speak;

"Granger."

She just stares. Looking me up and down, I oblige and do the same. She wore a pair of Levi navy, denim shorts that were incredibly short but curved and fit her in all the right places which also showed her toned and tanned legs. She wore a colourful corset-like top with a range of pinks, blues, greens and purples, that ziped down the front in an Aztec pattern, complementing her nicely and she topped this all off with six inch black heels.

Fuck, she looked sexy.

I look back up into her eyes and find her still staring blankly back with her mouth hanging open. I wanted nothing more than to close her mouth with mine but sudden concern washed over me. I look at her questioningly, placing my hand on her arm, and looking for any sign of injury or anything.

"Are you okay?" I asks, my tone serious, though she still is unable to speak. However, perfect timing as usual, the redhead comes bounding in looking for her friend. As soon as she sees me she grabs her friends arm, pulling her from my grasp. The electric heat that I had felt when they touched was suddenly turned cold and left bare. Leaving them alone and leaning back against the wall, I remain silent.

"Hi."

I turn my head round to see Hermione Granger staring intently up at me, even in six inch heels. I smiled.

"Hi." I reply casually.

She smiles back at me, causing my heart to race even more. Then a look of sadness rushes over her face and her smile fades.

"Mal-... Draco, I'm so sorry about my behaviour at the restaurant. I was out of order and over exaggerating and making a complete arse out of myself. We were having a nice time and then I ruined it. I'm truly sorry. Can you forgive me?" she asks sadly, looking me in the eyes, trying to express how sorry she is even though she is slightly drunk. I look at her, and walk over so that we are only an inch apart from each other.

I hear her breath hitch.

"Well, you were very rude Hermione, but I'm willing to forgive you, if..." I begin but pause for dramatic effect just as I'm about to explain what she can do to make it up to me.

"If what?" Hermione asks, seemingly dreading and afraid of the answer.

"Dance with me." I ask simply.

"What?" she asks, as if she did not hear me correctly. I smile and brings my lips to her ear.

"Dance with me..." I purr, causing her to shiver. She pushes me back softly so she can speak to me. I can tell she is going to say something stupid now.

Fucking Granger.

"Why? Why me, there are so many better looking and better dancers here. Why me?"

Told you.

Fucking mood-killer.

"Jesus, you do have trust issues don't you" I breathe. I stare at her and laugh sadly.

"You've just asked for my forgiveness over something you did and I have forgiven you quite simply. On top of that, I haven't insulted you once since we met each other again, what more do you want from me? I am no longer a child. I'm not the child I was at school and never will be again. All I am doing is asking you for a dance. I mean I've basically thrown all of my pride and dignity away and I'm practically begging you to dance with me. So please...say yes." I finish staring at her chocolate brown eyes. She looks at me, trying to figure out in her mind if I'm being honest and sincere.

"Okay" she replies quietly.

Thank god.

She turns away from me and walks off, hips swinging sensually as she makes her way over to the dance floor, me hot on her trail.

Spinning round, probably to if I was following, she comes face to face with me. Her curly brown hair was tamed and looked silky smooth, pink lips that naturally pouted and her brown eyes gleaming at me with something along the lines of lust and uncertainty.

Wow.

The predatorial animal inside of me grabs her arm and pulls her roughly into me, causing our chests to meet. Through my thin cotton top, I can feel her toned stomach and firm, perk breasts against my chest.

Holy shit.

Taking a leap of faith, I slowly moves my hands which were currently holding hers and place them on my neck. Reaching my neck, I release her tiny hands and head south with my hands to her waist and hips. As we look at each other, I can feel her fingertips touch my neck hair, giving me Goosebumps and making the hairs on my neck to stand up. I slowly start to trace circles on the small on her back with my thumbs, giving her chills. As we begin to move, we get more comfortable. When the music began to speed up, our hips matched each other in perfect synchronization. Dancing with her was otherworldly but it felt so natural. Suddenly, without really knowing, I automatically move my hands ever so slightly downwards. She arched her back into me and responded enthusiastically to my touch.

When she didn't pull away, I cheekily slid my hand into the pocket of her backside, trying not to get the same response as the other guy got. She smiled to herself.

What is she thinking?

She boldly let her petite hands drift over my abdomen, up towards my chest and down my broad shoulders. She looks up at me with the confidence and bravery of a Gryffindor. Then, she abruptly pulls me down to her by my shirt, and whispers huskily in my ear.

"I think I just found a new reason to like Quidditch."

Fuck.

I growl, and I know she hears me.

Then she stops.

What?

I pull myself away from her so I can see her face, genuinely concerned.

"Hermione? Are you okay? What's wrong?" I ask pressingly whilst scanning her face trying to read her expression.

She looks at me before saying,

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Oh.

I release the breath I had been holding and smile slightly at her.

"Alright, come on Hermione."

I take her delicate hand in mine and lead her carefully out of the club to an empty street before stopping to check if she was okay.

"Hermione, look at me." I order her as she slowly brings her brown eyes up to mine, smiling.

"Hermione, are you okay for apparating? Or do you want me to walk you home?" I ask pressingly. She giggles at me which causes the right side of my mouth to upturn, smiling.

"Such a gentleman Malfoy. No, I'm fine, honestly. You can apparate if you want. I'll be okay" she slurs trying to sound sober but failing miserably.

I think she may be the only person who gets drunker after they stop drinking.

Ha.

Light-weight.

However, I am still hesitant, but decide to grab her waist and she doesn't complain. As I do this, she clings onto my body, not wanting to let go. I look down at her in surprise. And suddenly I feel compelled to hold onto her more tightly.

As she buried her face in my shoulder, I held her closely and knew that I needed to be around her.

Then I knew.

I count to three.

"One" I begin.

"Two."

Then suddenly her firm grasp on my shoulders went slack, and she fell forward abruptly, almost face-planting the floor. Thankfully for my Seeker reflexes, I caught her just in time. Tilting her back over my arm to bring her face to mine, I notice her eyes had closed and she was lightly snoring.

Well.

At least she didn't throw up.

Smiling down at her, I pick her tiny boy up into my arms so I am carrying her bridal style, and proceed to apparate to the only place I knew that would be safe for her tonight.

Malfoy Manor.

The tight pull on both of our bodies brought us suddenly to my house. Carrying her inside, I proceed to walk up the grand stairs and make my way to my bedroom.

"Master?" a small squeak appeared out of nowhere. I turn around and come face to face ( well not literally at three feet tall) with Mipsy, my house elf.

"Yes Mipsy, what is the problem?" I ask politely. In the recent years, after the war ended, I became much more understanding of the traumas and the lifestyle that the house elves used to have to endure. After watching Dobby be tortured by my bastard of a father for years and all the other house elves that were used to do the Dark Lords biddings, I swore to myself that with the inch of humanity left in myself, I would never succumb to that behaviour.

"Does Master wish for Mipsy to put the young lady to bed? Does Master wish for some food or beverage? Does Master require Mipsy's presence?" she adds with small squeaks and quivers, but blue eyes bulging out of her head.

"No Mipsy, it's fine. I'll put her to bed. But breakfast tomorrow morning would be lovely." I reply kindly, still holding the very light Hermione in my arms.

"Yes Master Malfoy" Mipsy says, before she clicks her fingers and instantly disappears.

Continuing my way to my room, I look down at her. She was very beautiful. Even at school she was pretty. I would have never admitted it then, but I did admire her even then. Her looks, her mind, her friends.

She had the most amazing group of people to surround herself with. People who enjoyed her company and liked her for her. Something I never had. And I wanted it, badly.

Reaching my room, I walk over to my king size bed and place her gently onto the white, silk covers. As she rolls over, arm over her head, with her hair spread out all over the pillows, she begins to lightly snore again.

I smile.

Cute.

What?

What an un-Malfoy thing to say.

Ew.

My eyes are instantly turned over to a moving image in the background as I snap back to realist from my thoughts. Hermione's head turned over to face him, eyes closed and breathing softly.

Damn, she was pretty.

I really like her. Suddenly I feel obliged and compelled to reach over and get in bed with her right this second.

I don't.

Instead, I stretch my arm over to her heart shaped face and brush a stray ringlet away from her face. As I did this, she moved her tiny head into the palm of my hand, cosy-ing up to it in attempt for a caress.

My breath hitches.

I snatch my hand away from her face as if burned. I shouldn't be doing this. I make a quick exit and as I reach the door knob, I take a final look at her before I shut the door and feel frustrated once more.

* * *

As Draco sat in the sun-room drinking whisky at nine o'clock in the morning, he was contemplating the events that happened the night before.

It was madness.

He didn't know what to do.

The night before had been amazing. The club had been exciting and full of thrills, even at a muggle club. He had liked the environment. Not full of stuck up bitches who thought they were better than other people based on their blood type. What How he used to be. The people there were welcoming. And accepting.

Draco would never confess it, but he liked to surround himself with muggles on occasion. It made him feel normal. He felt a longing for it, every day. That was one thing that Harry Potter had that he didn't.

Draco had learned not to hate Harry over the last years. There was no love lost between them, sure, but he no longer wanted to see him defeated or worse. He envied Harry and the company he kept. He envied the love that everyone felt for the Boy Who Lived. He wanted not the adoration, but the intelligent companionship that Harry Potter's friends gave him. He was sick of the dim-witted duo that followed him like puppies waiting to be given orders. It irritated him so. What he wouldn't give to have intelligence surround him. Especially one by the name of Hermione Granger.

Granger.

...

Hermione.

It was all he could think about these days.

_Her._

And she was still upstairs.

Sleeping.

In his bed.

"Shit!"


End file.
